


At the End of All Things

by Lotus_Fantasy



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blood, Disgusting mutations, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Gore, Government Experimentation, Hurt/Comfort, Izaya has to trust his life to Shizuo, Izaya whump because I'm a sadist, M/M, Not a Crossover, Pain, Protective Shizuo, Resident Evil style, Rough Sex, Shizuo has to trust his life to Izaya, Survival Horror, Trauma Bonding, Violence, What are Izaya's motives?, Zombies, have i mentioned pain?, sex without love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2018-09-22 18:48:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9620771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotus_Fantasy/pseuds/Lotus_Fantasy
Summary: A Resident Evil-style horror. Shizuo wakes to find himself alone in an honest-to-gods zombie apocalypse. Suddenly, every minute becomes a fight for survival in a smoking ruin of a cityscape as he tries to figure out what's going on. Then he finds a lone survivor, and it's the very last person he wants to see. The pair reach an uneasy truce, and though their mutual hatred doesn't subside, trauma has a way of bonding people. And anyway, it's more important to find answers, safety, and escape. And stay alive. Always, always stay alive.





	1. Waking to Hell

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a doujinshi I found online. Resident Evil style! This work is longer and with more explanation behind why there are suddenly zombies wandering around.

**Chapter One: Waking in Hell**  

              The first explosions rocked his entire building at six in the morning. Even on a work day that was early, and today was his day off. The unexpected noise and the feeling of (what should have been) solid ground rattling beneath him had him flailing out of sleep with a rush and short cry.

               Honey-hazel eyes snapped open, and Heiwajima Shizuo hit the floor running. Heart pounding, adrenaline surging, he bolted to the window at the foot of the bed and flung the curtain aside. What he expected to see, he genuinely had no idea. A terrible earthquake, cracking the city streets and building foundations?

               The first thing he noticed was smoke. Thick, oily, heavy gray clouds billowing from the ground. Then the flames. Orange-red shimmers curling upward along cars and buildings. Then another explosion shook the earth so hard it threw him to the ground.

               _That wasn’t an earthquake,_ his startled mind wailed at him. _That was a . . . bomb? Could that have been a bomb?_ Why in the name of all he held dear would there be _bombs_ going off in central Tokyo? All cobwebs of sleep effectively chased away, Shizuo burst into frenzied motion.

               He grabbed his cell phone even as he pulled a pair of jeans up over his slim hips. Zipping them up one-handed, he fumbled with his other to dial Tom.

               It didn’t even ring once, only whining a busy signal in his ear. “Shit,” Shizuo grunted, hanging up and trying his brother’s number.

               Same results. He tried Shinra, then Celty. All to no avail.

               _There’s something wrong with service?_ His rational mind told him he needed to get himself to safety and figure out what was going on. Without so much as glancing in a mirror or washing his face, he shoved his feet into a pair of sneakers, pulled on a shirt, and bolted out the door.

               Frightened people were already pouring out of the building onto the streets, shouting to each other and looking every direction. Strangely, their panic helped calm Shizuo. As if knowing he wasn’t the only confused person offered comfort.

Keeping away from the flames slowly inching their way toward his building, Shizuo looked around and tried to figure out where the explosions were coming from. That, and verify whether they were actually bombs or not. Incredible as that seemed.

               He received his answer less than thirty seconds later when the whine of jet engines had his head jerking up in alarm. Two small fighter jets blazed over the city, and a handful of moments later more explosions shook the ground.

               _Fuck, they are bombing the city! Who the fuck is that!_

               Before his mind caught up, his body had already lurched into motion. Shoving past panicking onlookers, he found himself sprinting after the jets. It occurred to him he couldn’t hope to catch up, but a desperate need to know what was happening kept his body in moving.

               He wasn’t sure how long he ran. Probably, it wasn’t more than about a minute. Almost entirely without conscious command his body navigated debris from the fragmenting city including crumbling buildings and smoking cars. The wreckage would have been jarring were he not so focused on his objective.

               At some point, he realized he couldn’t see or hear any more people. Additionally, the farther he got from his apartment the less smoke and fire could be seen. A sliver of unease coiled in his gut. It looked like the destruction of the city had been going on for a while before he was waked by the noise.

               _What the fuck is going on?_

               Skidding to a halt, he spun in a full circle to try and take stock. Aside from smoke still hanging in the air the sky was clear. Though early enough the sun wasn’t full up yet, dawn had lightened the sky enough to easily see.

               Everywhere he looked, ruin abounded. Twisted metal, brick, and stone. Cracked concrete, naked frames and foundations, demolished cars and shattered glass. It looked like something out of a war horror film, and for several disconcerting seconds Shizuo entertained wild notions of WWIII having started while he slept.

               Suddenly, his desire to find the source of this was washed away in a need to find people. Whirling, he raced back the way he’d come. There had been hundreds of people back there. He knew a few of his neighbors by sight if not name, and the thought of seeing their faces felt critically important.

               It didn’t take him long. He was significantly faster than most of the human population, after all. His legs didn’t feel the burn of his full-on sprint, and his lungs barely felt strained as he rounded the corner of the block.

               His apartment building lay before him, just where he’d left it. Only, its condition was completely altered. Flames had leapt from nearby buildings and engulfed it in an inferno. Though Shizuo’s inner clock told him it couldn’t have been more than five minutes, the building’s structure was already severely compromised.

               But that didn’t disturb him nearly as much as the sight of the streets.

               Empty.

               Devoid of a single presence, save for his own.

               The pounding of his pulse had nothing to do with all the running. Swallowing the rapidly burgeoning panic, Shizuo once more looked all around to take stock. Other than the roaring of flames, he couldn’t hear anything.

               No more explosions, no screams, no shouts, no running footsteps, no engines of cars or jets.

               It was as if the entire city were empty save for himself and smoking wreckage.

               _No,_ his rational mind growled. _There’s no way an entire city of people just disappeared. They’re somewhere. I just have to focus and find them._ He shoved his hand into his back pocket, grasping for his phone.

               Not there. With a start, he realized he’d fled his apartment without it. No way even he could make it back up to the third floor and retrieve it, now.

               “Fuck!” he burst out, hands tightening into a fist until his knuckles cracked. He swung at the nearest available target: a car parked on the curb.

               Glass burst inward, metal shrieked, buckling under the pressure of his blow. Digging his fingers into the door, he wrenched backward with all his considerable strength. It yanked the door clean off the frame, and he hurled it with all his might.

               It didn’t calm his fraying temper, but it did abruptly point out something he’d missed.

               The air was filled with smoke, made hot by all the flames. As if noticing it had allowed his lungs to fully appreciate this condition, they chose that exact moment to make their displeasure known. For several long moments, Shizuo was overcome by a coughing fit.

               Clutching at his midsection, he leaned forward and wheezed through every wracking expulsion of tainted air. _Shit,_ he thought. _I gotta find a safer place than this._

               Mind made up, he staggered away from his apartment building. Nothing here could help him, so standing around mourning its loss was pointless. Strangely, the only thing he felt bad about losing were his bartender uniforms. Not that he loved the outfit, but it felt almost painful to lose the gift his brother had given him so long ago.

               A dozen city blocks later, and the flames were older and little more than embers. The air cleared enough that breathing no longer felt uncomfortable, and Shizuo wondered fleetingly if he should make his way to the hospital to try and find oxygen.

               Then he blinked. _A hospital. That’s where survivors would go._ If they were hurt, they would seek help from the one place best able to offer it.

               Then he grimaced. Walking being his mode of transportation, it would take him probably an hour, maybe two. But with the streets cracked and torn up and toppled buildings spreading debris everywhere, driving wasn’t much of an option.

               _Walking it is._ Maybe, he considered as he headed east, he would see signs of life.

               At first, he ran. His need for more information nipped sharply at his heels, spurring him forward without heed. It didn’t take long, however, before circumstance convinced him to slow to a jog and then a quick walk. Conserving energy seemed the more strategic option, especially if the fighter jets returned and he needed to take quick cover.

               After perhaps fifteen minutes, his stomach finally made its emptiness known. It sent anxious grumbles through his belly, and combined with his anxiety it created quite an unpleasant sensation. He patted his middle, silently promising he would fill it as soon as feasible. It didn’t quiet the grumblings.

               Then, so suddenly it startled him, he saw people. Perhaps a dozen. Though the distance and hazy darkness of shadowed buildings obscured them a little, they appeared to be poking through ruins. Perhaps, he thought as adrenaline once more surged through his veins, looking for survivors.

               “Oi!” he called, lunging into forward motion again. “Are you all right? Have you seen any others?”

               So great was his delight to see signs of life for the first time in (how long had it been since he fell out of bed?) forever, Shizuo didn’t take note of much as he ran. Pieces of information came to him in sporadic increments.

               Their clothing was burned and torn. Not so surprising. Their movements were slow and a little ponderous. Injured, no doubt. After all, the entire city district was in shambles. They made no sound and appeared not to notice each other. Shock, most like.

               And they took no notice of Shizuo, either, until he was abreast of the ruins. He called out again, and each head swung slowly toward him. It looked a little strange, as if their heads were being held up by invisible string and it was that string’s shifting making them move. The one nearest him took a few shuffling steps forward into the wan daylight.

               Shizuo stopped dead in his tracks, momentarily frozen in shock. This person, whether man or woman, had the ghastly appearance of someone who should be dead but still clung to life. The skin was burned and so marred it looked more like ground meat than human flesh. The lips were gone, leaving naked teeth and gum on gruesome display. One eye, a destroyed, pulped mess in its socket, wept yellowish fluid.

               A hand reached toward him, as if in supplication or a silent plea for help. Two of the fingers were missing skin and muscle, peeled all the way down to bone and tendon. From the throat issued a terrible sound, wet and broken, as if fluid and air were bubbling up to choke it off.

               And then it leapt.

               With a startled yelp, Shizuo landed hard on his back. His brain couldn’t quite comprehend what was happening, running around inside his head in useless little circles. Rather like a yapping dog chasing its own tail.

               Fortunately, a body long conditioned to combat didn’t need conscious commands from the brain to act on muscle memory. As clawed fingers and bared teeth snapped at his flesh, his hands came up and slammed down on his attacker’s shoulders and back. With another awful sound, the person crumpled sideways and off him.

               Rolling with impressive agility, Shizuo regained his feet and dropped into a defensive stance before thinking. His attacker, perhaps winded, was scrabbling uselessly at the pavement. Shizuo’s eyes swept toward the others he’d seen, and confirming his fears they were all coming toward him.

               Moving so slowly, their approach gave him five seconds to analyze. _They look like zombies,_ was his first thought. Their limbs sort of jerked, and when they emerged from the ruin’s shadow their eyes were hollow and completely empty. The ones who still had eyes, at least.

               Without knowledge of the situation to guide his actions, Shizuo hesitated. Indecision paralyzed him, torn between a desire to run from what appeared to be danger and help those who appeared to desperately need it.

               The latter won.

               “What happened to you?” he asked, not relaxing from his stance. Just in case. “You’re all hurt. Let me help you.” _They’re all so slow,_ he reasoned, _I can run easily enough._

               That thought comforted him for another half second.

               Moving with unnerving synchronicity, they all sprang at him with lightning speed. Only his superior reflexes saved him from being buried under eleven attackers. _What is this?_ He leapt directly backward, keeping his eyes on them, continuing with his mental inventory.

               In the light, their conditions appeared to be a little different than he’d originally thought. Their skin wasn’t charred or blackened from burns. Actually, it appeared to be a mottled brown and sickly dark purple, the color of a new bruise. Around the mouths and eyes the color was more of a piss yellow or greenish.

               And there didn’t appear to be _wounds_ where skin and muscle were missing. It looked more like . . . as if the flesh had simply . . .

               _Rotted away._

               A shiver crawled up the entire length of his spine. _What the fuck is going on?_

               “Let me help you,” he tried again, entire body poised to flee if need be. “We’re not too far from the hospital, I can take you—”

               With that disturbing, gurgling whine, they changed directions to once more follow him. This time, however, they fanned out. Survival instincts kicked in, and Shizuo turned to run. Presenting his back to unknown danger spurred him to an immediate sprint, and he made note of where he was so he could send aid later.

               He made it a few dozen paces before a heavy body hit his back and sent him sprawling again to pavement. The air was knocked from his lungs with a low grunt, and he felt fingers scrabbling at him. The desire to help blew away behind a veil of blood-red fury. With a snarl, he twisted under his attacker and flung his arm backward.

               Bone crunched and flesh caved with a sickeningly wet sound. He kicked the creature away, looking up just in time to see nine more would-be assailants racing toward him with disconcerting speed. Some of them were even on all fours like beasts.

               Like it always did when confronted with enemies, Shizuo’s temper flared and stamped out all fear. With another incoherent growl, he grabbed the thing nearest him: a street sign. It was already bent, perhaps impacted by falling rubble. His fingers gouged deep pockets into the metal, and it let out a grind loud enough to make his teeth ache.

               The first swing hit three of them and sent them flying. The spray of gore tarnished the sign and let out a surprisingly foul smell. Not slowing down one iota, Shizuo reversed the sign’s direction and swung back. Two more were sent flying, and his anger-filmed vision didn’t linger overmuch on the chunks of flesh now affixed to the sign.

               They, too, went flying when Shizuo swung the sign back around. Were there any eyes to witness, they might have likened the scene to an angry farmer, hacking a field of wheat with broad sweeps of his scythe.

               It took less than thirty seconds. It all happened with very little sound. The attackers let out no sounds of pain or shock, and they didn’t rise from where they’d fallen. Alone again, Shizuo held the sign in trembling hands for several seconds, chest heaving.

               Then he dropped it. It clattered to the street, and Shizuo simply turned away. Whatever those things were, they weren’t human. Whatever had happened to them, he would find out.


	2. Search and Despair

The first thing to abandon him was a sense of time passing.

Every minute blurred into every hour, a meaningless chain of events and movements and actions.

It took him about the predicted time to reach the city hospital. Along the way there were three more disturbing encounters with the creatures who had once been people but now appeared to be mindless creatures. They always attacked the instant they saw him, moving slowly at first but capable of bursts of surprising speed.

Knocking them down did no good. They pursued him relentlessly, so that left dying at their hands or killing them. It was no choice.

Clearly, his rational mind said, something had happened to them. Some sort of chemical weapon, maybe, one that caused flesh to rot and humanity to dissolve. Given that fighter jets had been bombing the city, it didn't seem a huge stretch.

That didn't explain why he seemed unaffected, to which his rational mind replied in an insidious whisper, _Not yet. Maybe you will be._

He didn't let that distract or deter him.

After the encounters, he stopped walking down the center of the broken street. He hugged buildings and alleys, attempting to stay out of sight as much as possible. With the terrible ravages done to their bodies, the affected humans didn't look as though they could be cured, but he didn't consider that a reason to actively seek their destruction.

As soon as he reached the hospital, his heart plummeted. No flurry of activity greeted his eyes, not so much as a single light winked from any window. Still, it appeared to be in better condition than most of the surrounding buildings. Glancing around, he picked his way carefully forward.

Wrecked ambulances dotted the curb, and for the first time Shizuo wondered why he hadn't found any bodies. Sure, he'd left behind a few in his wake. But other than the ones he'd taken down, he couldn't recall seeing any victims of the bombing.

 _Not that I searched every building,_ he thought. This whole time, he'd been operating under the assumption that someone (or hopefully multiple someones) was working on search and rescue, gathering survivors to a safe place for help and care.

Now, as he eased into the dark hospital, his point of reference began to shift. What if there _weren't_ any survivors? He shook himself, moving past empty lobbies and nurse stations. No, it was too early to start thinking like that.

_An entire city of people can't just vanish. It's not possible._

His eyes inventoried what he saw. Though it appeared deserted, the hospital did have plenty of signs of recent inhabitation and desperate evacuation. Chairs overturned. Various things scattered on the floor. Papers abandoned on surfaces. Desk drawers wide open or askew.

It wasn't until he reached the ER that he discovered the first signs of struggle. The operating table, with medical and monitoring equipment flung about, was covered in blood and chunks of flesh. Shizuo knew with absolute certainty those were human remains, and he could all too easily envision the affected humans tearing a helpless patient to shreds.

The image burned itself behind his eyes and refused to leave. With an involuntary shudder, he picked his way through the ICU and recovery rooms. More signs of patients meeting grisly ends greeted him, and the smell of bile and blood painted the inside of his nose until he wanted to vomit.

A half-hour's worth of investigating turned up no life and only more death. Giving it up as a lost cause, he instead made his way to a supply room. He had no idea what was affecting the people out there, so he had no idea how to check if he was affected too.

"What I wouldn't give for Shinra right now," he grunted, the doctor's smiling face appearing in his mind.

A pang arced through his heart. _I hope everyone's okay._ If anyone could survive a zombie invasion, it would be Celty, and the Dullahan would keep Shinra safe. That comforted him a little as he rummaged through shelves of pills, medicine bottles, gauze, syringes, and other things.

For the first time, he wished he'd listened to one of Shinra's impromptu lectures on health care and the functions of some basic medications. Weighing himself down with stuff seemed like an unwise waste of energy, especially since he still hadn't seen _that_ many affected people wandering around.

A tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered, _That's because they've moved to areas with more people. They've already killed everyone here_. It was a voice he ruthlessly quashed.

At any rate, food was more important right now. He'd gone to bed last night without eating, worn out from a long day.

It didn't take much hunting around to find a vending machine. The plexiglass front had already been broken by something, and crushed snacks littered the floor in front of it. Shizuo grabbed a handful of energy bars and stuffed them into his jeans. They fitted his legs snugly enough it made an awkward bulge, but it didn't affect mobility.

The thought flitted through his mind, _I should find a pack or something_.

The need for speed kept him from searching for such an item. He didn't expect to be in the city for much longer, anyway.

Later, so much later in the day the sun had passed its zenith and crept halfway down the sky, he realized for the first time how _big_ Tokyo was. In a cab, on the back of a motorcycle, or under any normal circumstances it felt ordinary. Nothing special. The ebb and flow of bodies and traffic washed over him as such a part of everyday occurrences that he afforded it no notice whatsoever.

Now, when he had to pick his way carefully past every obstacle and avoid attention, it felt like thousands of kilometers to the edge of the city.

And he hadn't actually even made it out of Ikebukuro District yet.

_Fuck. This is insane. This can't actually be happening, right? Am I having the most fucked up dream of my life right now?_

The more he traveled, the more affected he came across. Though they moved slowly when they perceived no other presences, the bastards were plenty capable of speed. To see it after the slow, unwieldy movements that seemed typical was a disturbing juxtaposition.

He was not able to avoid them all the time.

He did his best. Ducking into shadows, hiding behind debris, slinking past any clusters of affected he saw. Many of them didn't even have eyes any longer, so staying out of sight wasn't much of an issue. Pretty much all of them had ears, though, and their hearing seemed plenty keen. Even the slightest rustle of fabric or scuff of shoe had them angling toward him.

It kept Shizuo in a state of constant tension, and when night finally covered the city in darkness, he couldn't remember ever being so tired.

Sleep, however, was the last thing on his mind.

Because somewhere along the way, in such a slow trickle he hadn't quite noticed, the numbers of the affected began to grow.

The strain of _not knowing_ grew on him. Hung around his neck like a chain attached to thousand-kilogram weights. He felt half-paralyzed, as if each decision he made was _wrong_ because he was making it with only half the necessary information. It kept him from attacking the affected, using force only to defend himself when hiding was no longer an option.

The more he had to defend himself, though, the more he wondered if he was taking precautions in vain. The creatures behaved in such a completely inhuman way he wondered if there was anything left to save. And always, always his mind frantically demanded to know what had happened.

What had made them this way.

If stress could cause ulcers, he didn't want to see inside his own guts.

The not knowing, the indecision, the anxiety, none of it kept him from moving.

Dawn shouldered the night aside with its usual grace, and the sky lightened to a weird color. Smoke, Shizuo thought. Some people might find it beautiful. The unnaturalness of it dragged against his mind, clawing at his consciousness in a demand for _right_ ness again.

It was when he reached the bus depot that he received his worst and most jarring reality check yet.

The smell reached him first. Thick, clinging, and terrible, it coated the inside of his nose as if made of oil. It reeked of rotting meat, of bile, of blood, of every filthy body fluid imaginable. It was so strong it made Shizuo's eyes water.

The second thing that reached him was the silence. He'd never seen a public transportation terminal in Ikebukuro so utterly devoid of _sound_ or _movement_. They never slept, these terminals, always bustled with people on their way to and from places of utmost importance.

The third and final thing to make it into his psyche were the bodies.

Everywhere. Hundreds. Thousands of them. Carelessly flung over every surface. Some were missing arms. Some were missing legs. Some had been torn in half. Some had midsections ripped open and entrails gouged out. There were body parts with no bodies. It looked as if a horde of monsters had charged through and sloppily devoured parts of every single human there and left huge chunks to waste into rot.

Shizuo turned, leaned forward, and vomited. His stomach desperately heaved as if trying to wring the sight out of his memory through each convulsion.

 _Shit, shit,_ he thought, tears burning his eyes from the violence of his body's denial. Really, he should have been prepared for this. He'd known, somewhere in the back of his mind, this was a distinct possibility. Ignoring it had just given this whole ordeal a nightmarish quality, an opaque curtain providing distance between it all and him. Horrible, but still just a nightmare.

This was a punch to the gut.

This was a fucking mountain falling on him, telling him in grisly detail how _real_ this was. That there _was_ no waking up because he was _already awake._

The convulsions eased, and for a few more moments Shizuo just dry heaved onto the pavement. Then it passed, and he straightened, and the taste of stomach acid soured on his tongue as he looked around. Really _looked_ , eyes searching for any sign of what had happened to these people.

The horror gnawed at the edges of his consciousness. Though each body was mutilated, he could see women and children among the dead. The tears still stinging his eyes weren't entirely from the awful smell as he picked his way through the carnage.

A few things stood out. First, the cause of death for each corpse seemed to be violence and not whatever affliction had affected the others Shizuo had seen. The skin was discolored only with death, not the mottled purple and brown of those shambling outside.

Second, it did appear as if these people had been attacked and at least partially consumed. _Are the affected out there responsible for that, too? Are they so fucked up they're eating their fellow humans now? What the hell happened to them?_

The thought again crossed his mind, had the city been the victim of some sort of chemical attack? Were there chemicals in existence that could cause such monstrous changes in humans? A shudder raced up his spine as he searched the corpses for any evidence of such a thing.

Not, he thought with a resigned sigh, that he really knew what to look for. Giving it up as a lost cause, _really_ wanting to be somewhere other than at the center of so much death, he turned away to look for an alternate means of transportation.

Even a bike would be faster than traveling on foot.

He heard it first. Low and distant, a sound too inconspicuous to do more than ripple over his awareness. It grew a little louder, and he vaguely thought it sounded like the snuffling of a dog with a cold. Dogs got colds too, right?

It grew louder still, and his ears detected a slight gurgling. It reminded him of the wet sound of the affected's breathing. The second that half-thought formed, he whirled. Just in time to find himself being attacked.

It looked completely different from the affected he'd seen. This one had legs bent to an awkward angle, knee facing backward. The arms were long and thick, ending in what looked like bony claws instead of fingers. The head was enormously bloated, only one swollen eye visible over the fleshy pustules taken over its face.

He had less than two seconds to process what he was seeing; the thing was coming at him _fast_. Possessed of more than twice the speed and agility of the affected he'd encountered so far. Mid leap, it gaped open its mouth to reveal two rows of huge, sharp teeth. The jaw appeared to unhinge, allowing it to swing grotesquely wide.

Shizuo only barely managed to duck under the attack and skid out of the way. The thing hardly lost any momentum as it dug claws into the ground and used this hold to pivot and fling itself back toward Shizuo.

This time, he dodged and didn't wait around the see the creature recover. He grasped the nearest thing available: a wooden bench. Without hesitation, he spun and lashed out with the weapon. Wood splintered, smashing to pieces over the creature's frame. Pustules burst with foul-smelling yellow fluid as the blow flung the thing back ten meters.

With rapid scrabble of its clawed hands and feet, the thing regained its balance and raced right back toward him with that gaping mouth open and slathering. The revulsion that crawled up Shizuo's spine stamped out any lingering guilt over ending a life that was once human (had this thing actually ever been human?).

Another wooden bench smashed over his would-be assailant, and this one also barely slowed it down. The second it regained its feet it renewed the attack, even though the force of both blows had made a pulped mess of its flesh.

This was ridiculous. If bludgeoning wouldn't work, maybe impaling would. Grabbing a third bench, he snapped it over his knee and made an impromptu spear. Growling, he sprinted toward the creature. At the last second, as claws reached for him yet again, he slid to the ground so it passed right by him and stabbed upward with his weapon as hard as he could.

The shriek of pain he'd half expected didn't come. The creature let out a wet gurgle, and Shizuo grimaced as some sort of fluid splashed down on him. It didn't burn his skin, which seemed good, and the creature toppled sideways. Scrambling to his feet, Shizuo eyed it with trepidation and prepared to dodge quickly.

His caution probably saved his life. With incredible speed, the creature crab-scuttled toward him, claws grasping. They closed on thin air, and Shizuo grabbed the last whole wooden bench he could see and slammed it down with all his strength.

A nauseating _splat_ accompanied the attack, as if he'd squashed a juicy watermelon. Black and yellow fluid burst outward with chunks of gore, and finally the thing stopped moving. Breathing hard, Shizuo tried to calm a heart racing not from exertion but from anxiety.

_What the fuck was that!_

His frantic thoughts were greeted by another wet snuffling.

Instantly, Shizuo sprinted across the terminal to duck behind a bus. The metal frame of the vehicle had been torn nearly in half, all the windows shattered. It provided plenty of cover, and he eased an eye around the front bumper in time to see another one of those creatures gallop into view.

It halted over the greasy mess that was previously an affected. Though Shizuo couldn't exactly see a nose, he clearly heard the thing sniffing its fallen counterpart. Then the head with its single eye snapped up, and the sniffing increased.

 _Shit._ Shizuo's heart amped up further, adrenaline zinging through his veins like stinging nettle as the creature trotted toward him. _It can probably smell the blood from its fellow._ Moving as carefully as he could, he tried to slip away undetected.

In retrospect, he should have kept his eyes on the creature.

A click of claws on metal was his only warning as it vaulted over the twisted bus and hit him hard from behind. He fell hard, stars bursting behind his eyelids. That was going to leave a bruise for sure. Pure animal instinct had him twisting to grab the creature's claws before they impaled him.

Gnashing teeth aimed for his throat, and the smell of its breath nearly gagged Shizuo. Rotting meat. His survival instincts revved into overdrive, body moving despite being winded. His knees curled in, driving his feet up into the creature's gut. Whether it so much as winded the thing he had no idea, but it did shove it off him.

Unlike the first one Shizuo had killed, this one didn't immediately come at him. Instead, it paced in a slow circle, its only eye bulging as if sizing him up. Proof of some sort of intelligence sent a shiver up Shizuo's back.

Never one to wait around in a fight, Shizuo bolted sideways and slammed his hands down onto the broken bus. His sudden movement galvanized the creature into motion, and it leaped onto him with that perturbing mouth wide open.

Clenching his fingers hard, the metal whined under the force of his grip and he _yanked_. The horrible shriek made him wince as a huge chunk of metal ripped off the frame. A quick pivot was all he needed to smash his weapon into the creature's disgusting head.

It threw his attacker back, but like the other it regained its footing with shocking ease and nimbly sprang back toward him. It stopped halfway, once more appearing to size its opponent up and peer for weakness. Shizuo didn't give it the chance to get comfortable.

Wielding the piece of metal like a shield, he charged forward. Long legs cleared the distance between them, and this time it was the creature who dodged. It leapt straight up, a tactic Shizuo hadn't quite expected—nor the height it gained.

Perhaps a normal person would have fallen victim to it. Shizuo was far from normal, and his superior reflexes had the shield up and protecting him in an eye blink. Claws scored heavily but harmlessly on metal.

Not quite harmlessly. The weight of the blow dropped Shizuo to one knee, gritting his teeth at the bruising force. He faded under the creature, and its own momentum sent it toppling forward. Shizuo grabbed the edges of his makeshift shield and slammed the sharp edge straight downward.

It glaived the creature right in half.

While it appeared to render the bottom half useless, the creature's torso still clawed its way toward him. Shizuo jerked his weapon up and bore it down over and over until he'd reduced the creature to ground meat.

Then he all but tore his shirt off, vigorously rubbed his skin dry, flung it away, and bolted. Sure enough, he heard that wet snuffling sound heralding the arrival of more. But they didn't pursue him, perhaps drawn to the smell of blood of their own more than him.

He slowed down a little. _Great. Now I'm stuck in a city with flesh-eating zombies without a shirt._ It seemed like such a small, trivial thing compared to all he'd endured. Yet, for some reason this felt like a personal affront. Much as he disliked the notion of just finding some store and swiping a new one, facing the madness without even that flimsy protection was too much to bear.

At least his anger he felt over its loss distracted him from the dim horror in the far recesses of his mind, the growing fear that he might just be the last person alive in this godforsaken city.

And he made a mental note of the shop so that in case the world was ever put right again, he could reimburse the owner properly. Just because everything else had gone to shit, didn't mean he had to participate.


	3. Unexpected and Unwanted

**Chapter Three: Unexpected and Unwanted**

The second day's dawning startled him. It disturbed him to realize he hadn't noticed night falling in order to give way to morning. _Shit. I've been wandering around without sleep for two days, now._

Giving form to that condition brought it into sharp focus. Every joint ached, every muscle burned, every breath heaved.

He had no idea how many creatures he'd killed, and his mind balked so fiercely at remembering they were humans he simply thought of them as affected. Affected by whatever had befallen Ikebukuro, whatever had befallen all of Tokyo, because at some point he realized he'd reached the edge of the district and only ruin waited for him at its borders.

The weight of this discovery shocked him into paralysis. It hadn't quite occurred to him what might be waiting when he finally fought his way through the creatures that seemed intent on killing anything that moved. What should have taken an afternoon had taken two days.

Two days without a single sign that anything remotely human could be found in this wasteland he'd once called home. It felt like an eternity ago. For the first time, he faced the morbid possibility that _nothing_ waited for him outside the city. That there were no survivors. That whatever had happened here had happened everywhere, and that the only living things were those monsters.

These dark musings tormented him for less than thirty seconds before he heard them. Wet snuffling. Like a dog with too much mucus in its nasal passage. He really, _really_ hated that sound. His body reacted, sprinting immediately for cover.

By now, he'd learned the ones who hunted by smell were a lot stronger and harder to kill than the normal ones. There were fewer of them, but they were a lot more difficult to evade. Still, he conserved energy whenever he could by fleeing rather than fighting.

Seldom now, so seldom was he able to avoid fights. Where yestermorning there had been only scattered clusters of affected, now they crawled everywhere. Shizuo had taken to circumventing the streets almost entirely, passing through buildings which had more places to hide.

It was very, very slow going.

Ducking between two buildings and an upturned dumpster, Shizuo glanced back long enough to make sure he wasn't trapped in an alley. Then he held still and strained to hear anything. Heightened senses of smell and intelligence or not, the sniffers still didn't move totally silent. Their damn noses always gave them away.

This time, however, the sounds of a scuffle broke the tense silence. He blinked. He'd never once seen the affected going after each other. In fact, they seemed to completely ignore each other (except when he killed a sniffer and another was attracted by the smell). Were they actually fighting?

This alone wasn't enough to convince him to bolt around from cover. No, something else entirely galvanized him into motion as if lighting had struck his veins. A grunt, not that far from him. Not the wet, gurgling sounds the affected only ever made. A sound of discomfort or annoyance or both, one entirely _human_.

There were two of the damn sniffers. Shizuo saw a flash of dark clothing as he lunged around the corner to grab a street sign for a weapon. He felt his wrench tear a chunk of pavement with the sign, but so much the better. Squashing these creatures like bugs was the best way to kill them good.

They were focused on their victim. Shizuo swung the butt end of the sign with its heavy lump of concrete first, and it caught the sniffer completely unawares. Given more opportunity than usual, he shoved forward and down at the same time, and there was a wet crunching sound as he drove the creature's head into the ground and continued driving until he'd mangled it beyond all recognition.

"Behind you!" warned a voice that tugged at the edges of his awareness, and weird tingles ran up his arms as he dragged the sign around to slam into the second creature.

He was slower on his second attack, limbs made sluggish by exhaustion that even adrenaline had a hard time overcoming. The sniffer nimbly sprang backward, completely avoiding the blow, and its hideous mouth gaped open as it lunged forward again.

It hadn't counted on something else leaping onto its back and dragging a knife through its spinal cord at the base of its skull. It collapsed and didn't move.

"Well, that was a lot easier with you to distract it, Shizu- _chan_."

Oh. That was why the voice grated. The sign clattered noisily to the street as Shizuo took three lunging steps forward, hand closing tightly about a pale throat and slamming its owner backward into the wall behind him.

"Izayaaaa," Shizuo growled, lips curling back and catching his teeth in a twisted grin.

The slender form in front of him instantly crumpled, every limb going limp and heavy in his hold. Shizuo wasn't sure if it was the _wrongness_ or the novelty of this reaction that had him yanking back as if burned, putting some distance between them. Orihara Izaya fell to the ground and didn't immediately rise.

Red-tinged eyes looked up, though, and his mouth curved into a cruel smirk. "That was fun," he said around a short laugh. It sounded a little breathless. "Did you think you'd finally killed me, Shizu-chan?"

Though anger tightened his limbs, indecision wracked Shizuo into motionlessness. Here he was, the man Shizuo hated most in the world, mocking him as usual. There were no innocent bystanders around the curb his rage and prevent him from all-out attacking.

But . . . he also hadn't seen another human being in the city for two days. The sight of someone living and not affected proved quite a powerful balm to his usual fury.

"I still might," he warned, but it lacked venom.

Izaya laughed, low and dry. "You might as well. Save these other goddamn monsters the trouble."

Shizuo's fingers twitched with the desire to lock themselves around Izaya's throat. "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

Those eyes, such an unnerving color, flicked up to his face. For a moment, a moment too brief to really be sure, Shizuo could swear he saw annoyance flash through them. Then it was gone (if it'd ever been there) behind the usual smug superiority.

"The world's ending and you're complaining that I came to Ikebukuro?"

The way he said it made Shizuo's teeth ache. So offhanded, so cavalier. "Tell me something," he said through a clenched jaw, "and don't bullshit. Did you have anything to do with this, Izaya?"

The narrow slash of the other man's mouth instantly curved back up into a grin. "You'll have to be more specific, Shizuo. There are too many ways to take your meaning—"

Ribbons of red lanced through his vision as his fist snapped back and blazed forward with force capable of shattering bone. But it was only brick and plaster that exploded on impact, showering down dust and building fragments. It was intensely satisfying to see Izaya's involuntary and helpless sideways flinch.

"Don't bullshit me," he said again, jaw frozen in that aggressive not-grin.

Startled by the blow or not, Izaya's expression and voice didn't waver in the slightest. "I did not."

It was more succinct than anything he'd ever heard Izaya say. The answer was so short, in fact, that Shizuo actually couldn't even remember the question for a second. Then he leaned forward and dropped to one knee so he could cage Izaya between the wall and his own body.

"I don't believe you."

"Then this was a pointless exchange," Izaya said. "Why ask if you've already made up your mind?"

A really fucking good question. One Shizuo set aside in favor of his earlier one. "What are you doing here?" And almost as pressing, "And why the fuck aren't you affected?"

"Infected," Izaya corrected at once.

Blink. "What?"

" _In_ fected," Izaya repeated. "These people have all been infected. With a parasitic virus."

Puzzle pieces began tumbling into place in Shizuo's mind. _Oh._ It explained so much. He couldn't imagine a virus being capable of the kinds of hideous mutations he'd seen, but his knowledge of pathology was limited at best.

That simple statement brought a whole new barrage of questions tumbling to Shizuo's lips. "How do you know that? Were you somehow involved? If it's a virus, is there a cure?"

Izaya's eyes shifted away, and Shizuo realized he was looking for affected. Infected. Then he looked back to Shizuo's face. "This isn't the safest place for a conversation, Shizu-chan." His tone was light, still carrying a smirk. "I'll answer all your questions, but not here."

Shizuo could feel the weight of a condition on that promise. His eyes narrowed. "In exchange for what?"

Izaya made a show of contemplating. "How about . . . work with me."

The absurdity of those simple words sent a bark of laughter tumbling from Shizuo's lips. It sounded harsh even to his own ears. "What? Why would I ever do that?"

This time, Shizuo was sure of it. That _was_ annoyance darting over Izaya's countenance. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen it before. Superiority? Mocking? Derision? Anger? Absolutely. But annoyance? That was such a _human_ expression.

"Try to use that brain you _must_ have in your head somewhere," Izaya said, falling a little short of mocking in favor of exasperation. "How much longer do you think you can last in this hell on your own?"

A very good question, one Shizuo had already been considering. Two equally pressing but conflicting desires sprang up. He wanted to say no, because this was Orihara Izaya, a goddamn plague in the shadows and stain on Ikebukuro and its innocent residents.

But he also wanted to say yes, because surviving might actually be easier with a second pair of eyes, even if those eyes did belong to a goddamn blood-sucking flea.

Before he could make a decision, though, he needed to know one more thing. "If it's a virus, how aren't you infected?"

Izaya's lips twitched. "I could ask you the same thing, but it's probably because you're a monster."

Given what he'd faced over the last two days, those words grated. Hard. His hand inched toward Izaya's throat.

Izaya gave no indication he'd seen, but he gave in nonetheless. "It's a blood-borne pathogen," he said, "not airborne."

Shizuo's eyes traveled over Izaya's body. _In other words, if he has no open wounds I can safely assume he wasn't infected._ "Strip."

He meant for his command to jar Izaya. To shake that damn smirk loose. It didn't so much as make him twitch. His smirk widened.

"You do realize, Shizu-chan, that if I was infected I'd already have mutated by now?"

"How would I possibly know that?" Shizuo demanded.

"My, how do you function at all?" Izaya said, eyes closing as he tipped his head back as if giving up. " _Think_ for a second. When you fell asleep two nights ago, were there infected monsters roaming around?"

There were not, and Shizuo didn't miss the implications. _So the incubation period for the virus is short._ "Fine," he acceded, rising and clamping his hand around Izaya's arm to yank him up.

Though his hold was tight enough to bruise, Izaya gave no outward indication of pain. Nor did he protest how roughly Shizuo dragged him away from the wall and into a jog.

"Not that I mind letting you take the lead," Izaya said, "but where exactly are we going, Shizu-chan?"

The words fell off his lips heavy with the lie, and something about the way he said them made Shizuo's skin prickle. "The shamblers can't seem to climb stairs," he said, "and the sniffers don't go deep inside buildings."

A faint laugh. "Such creative names you've given them."

"You've thought of something better?" Shizuo demanded, irritated.

"It never occurred to me to give monsters names," Izaya replied.

The reflexive tightening of his grip made Izaya wince, this time. Shizuo felt a bolt of satisfaction.

He didn't take Izaya far, wanting to get out of the streets as much as possible. The structure he entered was once an office building, a good thirty stories tall. At least a full third of its height had crumbled to the street, but it was enough to provide relative safety for a while.

Finding an office to his liking, one with a high window, he shoved Izaya in so hard he stumbled and fell on his ass. Shizuo closed the door.

"Talk."

Izaya didn't rise. He stayed on the floor and leaned against the desk behind him, closing his eyes. "I think I'll get a little sleep, first. How about you, Shizu-chan? How long's it been since you last rested?"

 _Forever._ "Talk, then sleep. If I like your answers, I won't kill you." He thought that felt like a perfectly reasonable compromise.

Izaya's eyes slit open, and he angled a strange little smile at Shizuo. "All right. I'll tell you everything I know."

Shizuo rather doubted it.

"Are you familiar with Izunia Pharmaceutical?"

Frowning, Shizuo opened his mouth to demand how that was relevant.

Izaya didn't wait for an answer. "It's a subsidiary of a global conglomerate," he went on. "They have a medical research facility in Tokyo. They were commissioned by an unknown party to research an unknown pathogen."

Shizuo felt his gut clench.

"For a research facility to experiment with a virus is normal," Izaya explained. "Completely un-noteworthy. But I'm fairly certain this viral outbreak was intentional."

There it was. The enormity of it, even if just a suspicion, pressed on Shizuo's chest like a physical weight. "How do you even know any of this?" he demanded.

Izaya chuckled, an utterly mirthless sound. He closed his eyes again and let his head fall back against the desk. For the first time, Shizuo realized how _tired_ the other looked.

"One of the employees of Izunia Pharma contacted me," he said. "She had something completely unrelated she wanted me to research. The irony is, it's because she contacted me that I discovered the information I did."

He paused briefly, and Shizuo saw some of the tension in his shoulders ease a little. It caused his jacket to slip a bit, but whether Izaya had relaxed out of trust or exhaustion he couldn't say. Probably the latter.

Shizuo used the lull in his narrative to ask, "What did this woman want you to research?"

"A white collar crime," Izaya said, "perpetrated by someone she knew at a company with no connection to Izunia Pharma."

Reining in his impatience took a little effort, but perhaps not as much as usual. With a start, Shizuo realized it was because hearing another voice after two days was . . . nice. Even if that voice belonged to Izaya.

"So," he said, surprised to hear so little anger in his own voice, "what's the connection?"

Izaya's lips curled up. "I almost always investigate people who hire me and with whom I've never done business. It's only prudent, don't you think?"

Actually, Shizuo thought as he resisted the urge to roll his eyes, he thought it was distasteful. He didn't say that aloud, too keen on knowing more to interrupt the flea into a mocking tirade.

Izaya took his silence as a cue to continue. "I thought it was odd for a pharmaceutical researcher to contact me," he went on.

"So you pried into her personal life out of professional curiosity?" Shizuo said before he could stop himself.

Izaya finally opened his eyes and sat up, and the expression on his face was odd. Dark and unreadable. "Izunia is a subsidiary of IRMS," he said. "Are you familiar with it?"

Shizuo frowned. "Yeah. International Research for Medical Solutions."

"Primarily," Izaya said in confirming tones, "they deal in pharmaceuticals. They have several hundred subsidiary companies all over the world."

"Where is this going?" Shizuo demanded, feeling the first stirrings of impatience.

"In the last two years, three different pharmaceutical and medical research companies have experienced accidents that led to viral outbreaks," Izaya said, and in the dim light of the room his eyes seemed to glow crimson. "One in Brazil, one in one in Russia, and one in Taiwan. The outbreaks never made it outside the facilities, but everyone inside was killed. These companies have only one thing in common: IRMS."

Shizuo raised an eyebrow. "So, what? IRMS is having its subsidiaries release viruses? For what reason?"

"This is a bit of speculation on my part," Izaya said, sounding not at all bothered to admit that, "but IRMS is a government-funded conglomerate. Specifically, the governments of the US, China, Japan, Russia, and parts of Europe. This outbreak in Tokyo marks the _fourth_ such incident from companies owned or controlled by IRMS. This one is by far the largest. Don't you think it's incredibly sloppy of such a huge organization to have four terrible accidents?"

Yes, it was. Shizuo didn't give Izaya the satisfaction of an answer.

Izaya didn't wait for one. "Can you really think of no reason a government would unleash this kind of virus on its populace?"

An altogether more chilling question.

Izaya wasn't finished. "The infected have demonstrated a singular focus: hunting down and killing or infecting all non-infected humans they encounter. They appear to have none of the basic human needs. What could a corrupt government do with that kind of army?"

It was too big. Too much. Shizuo shook his head in denial. "This is pure speculation."

"Yes," Izaya agreed, "which brings us full circle to your very first question. What am I doing in Ikebukuro? It just so happens your district is the home of Izunia Pharma's headquarters. Shinjuku is even worse than Ikebukuro, and like most humans living there I couldn't escape. So I decided to come here, to pay their HQ a visit and find out what I could learn. Maybe even find a way to stop this from getting worse.

"Though," he said with a mirthless chuckle, "how much worse it could be I don't know."

There was no reason to believe any of this. Shizuo absolutely couldn't take anything Izaya said at face value. There had to be something he was hiding, something he was not saying, and it most likely involved his culpability.

"How aren't you infected?" he repeated his earlier query.

Izaya lifted one shoulder in a soft shrug. "I knew about the virus. I'm probably the reason the military responded so quickly to the outbreak."

Blink. "What?"

The other looked inexplicably uncomfortable for a split second. "I tried to warn people." His mouth twisted on a hint of chagrin. "I wasn't quite fast enough, it seems."

That, in spite of everything Shizuo had been through so far, was the strangest thing he'd ever heard. _Izaya? Trying to help? Not fucking likely._

Head aching and body crying out desperately for rest, Shizuo moved to stand by the window. "Go to sleep," he ordered. "I'll wake you in three hours and we'll head for this Izunia Pharma."

Izaya raised an eyebrow. "And what about you, Shizu _-chan_? You can't go forever without sleep."

"As if I'd trust you not to kill me in my sleep," Shizuo grunted, eyes scanning the street down below.

A dry laugh. "And I'm supposed to trust _you_?"

"Don't make me choke you out," Shizuo warned, but the threat sounded too distracted for much impact.

Indeed, Izaya snorted. But he shrugged out of his jacket and folded it for a pillow. "Three hours."

Within seconds, his body relaxed and his breathing deepened. It was so sudden Shizuo felt a bolt of something like sympathy. His eyes, without his volition, slid over the other man's frame.

Without that ever-present jacket, it was a little easier to see the body beneath. Izaya had always been slim, but Shizuo had never thought he was _thin_ before. Right now, so unguarded and defenseless, he looked small and fragile. How easy it would be to lean down, curl his fingers around that skinny neck, and exert the pressure to snap it.

It would require so, so little pressure. No effort at all. For a moment, for the briefest of moments, his fingers itched to do just that.

It would be foolish, he reasoned. That's what stayed his hand. Two pairs of eyes really were better than one in this hellscape, it would be easier to survive with an extra pair of hands. Someone to watch his back.

But as hazel eyes drifted up to Izaya's sleeping face, he felt a stirring of something else. It was nice to have another human with him. The initial anger he'd felt over Izaya's sudden presence was long gone.

And if something else stirred within him, deep down in the furthest recesses of his mind, well, he ignored it. It wasn't important.


	4. Instinct and Rationale

**AlexOrtiz:** I think so too ;)

Thanks everyone for assuring me the fight scenes are good! I've never been very confident about writing action, glad you're all enjoying it!

* * *

 **Chapter Four: Instinct and Rationale**  

Very little had the power to frighten Orihara Izaya. Two days ago, he would have said nothing on Earth had the power to frighten him, in fact. Then his beloved city turned into a literal hell and his beloved humans turned into monsters.

By itself, that wasn't enough to scare him. After all, he'd learned about this coming crisis and had approximately eighteen hours to mentally prepare himself and come up with a plan to avert it.

He'd failed, but then, he hadn't quite expected to succeed. Not with so little time.

Alerting his contacts to mobilize the military was a risk. Such an action had always carried the risk of setting events in motion, so he was prepared for that too. He was also prepared for being trapped in the city, hordes and hordes of humans-turned-monsters between him and his objective.

The first thing for which he was unprepared was how _fast_ the humans turned. Indeed, he watched a monster attack someone in the street below his flat. A scratch from bone claws, an instant up-welling of blood, and about twenty seconds before flesh around the wound began to purple and swell.

Not only was it disgusting to observe, it was intensely disconcerting to watch—to see—humanity melt away into monstrosity.

He knew, of course, that the virus attacked the brain first and consumed the part of it that made humans human. It was why he felt no particular compunction toward killing them. Monsters didn't deserve to live.

The second thing that managed to shock him was the eating. Nothing he knew of the virus suggested it caused its victims to eat humans as well as attack to infect them.

Peculiarly, Izaya found that comforting. _I hope_ , the morbid thought flickered through his mind as he navigated the twisted remains of Shinjuku, _if I don't make it, I'm eaten and not turned_.

It was hard. He'd known it would be. He'd known it would be a struggle, every step would be a battle. A fight for survival. He was right about that, and even his well-conditioned body trembled under the strain of staying alive.

The third shock came when he found Shizuo. Or Shizuo found him. Or circumstances flung them together with absolute and total disregard for Izaya's personal preferences.

Realizing the most monstrous thing in Tokyo had survived hell breaking loose, that wasn't what shocked him. No, that was no surprise at all. Monsters couldn't infect monsters, most like.

No, the thing that shocked him was the powerful, overwhelming, all-encompassing relief that he was no longer alone and that it was Shizuo. No one else, no single soul in all the world, could possibly have kindled such a powerful spark of hope within him.

 _Maybe I can actually do this after all_.

The fourth and final shock came when he put his life in Shizuo's hands. Trusting Shizuo not to kill him while he slept, he could blame that on sheer exhaustion. But while Izaya may bandy lies on his tongue with more skill than a butcher wielded a knife, he saved that for every other person but himself. With himself, he was always honest.

And honestly, the shock wasn't that necessity helped him trust Shizuo.

It was how easily trusting Shizuo came, regardless of the circumstance.

It was a little disturbing, and it probably said something about him, and he would definitely explore that part of his psyche when he had the time.

Sleep came first, and it dragged him under faster than he'd anticipated.

A second (it felt like) later, a crushing grip on his shoulder jarred him out of sleep with a cry. A large hand clapped over his mouth and ungently yanked his head back.

"Quiet," Shizuo's voice hissed in his ear. "Sniffers."

Izaya tensed, nodding to show he understood. Shizuo didn't remove his hand (as only would've been polite, really), and Izaya noticed the protozoan was bodily covering him. It made his lips curve in a smile beneath the hand covering his mouth.

 _Chivalry, Shizu-chan?_ Opening his mouth, he sank his teeth into the man's palm.

To his credit, Shizuo only grunted before letting go. "The fuck, you goddamn flea." Low, barely audible.

"It's hard to breathe," Izaya whispered. "How many?"

"Can't tell," Shizuo murmured, "but they're close. Dunno what they're doing here. They never come into buildings."

Izaya couldn't help a faint laugh. "Two days," he breathed, carefully rolling onto his side to get his legs under him, "isn't enough time to become an expert on their behavior, Shizu-chan."

"Maybe not," Shizuo said, moving so Izaya could rise, and the ease of the admission startled Izaya. "Follow me."

It felt slightly surreal, how many times in the last short while Shizuo had ordered him to do something—and that each time Izaya had obeyed without even token resistance. It was enough to have him angling a smile at Shizuo's back, a smile full of curiosity and malice.

The office Shizuo chose had two doors: the one through which they'd come and another on the opposite wall. The protozoan led Izaya through the second, and it opened into what looked like a conference room.

Shizuo lifted one arm and effortlessly pushed Izaya into the corner. Edging forward, he peered out the enormous windows surrounding the room's large oval table. Izaya just waited, weirdly content to let Shizuo put himself in danger for them both.

"There's a fucking mob down there," Shizuo spat, tone still pitched low. "Probably at least two-hundred shamblers. What the fuck are they doing?"

Izaya carefully peeked around Shizuo's shoulder down into the street below. The infected milled about, disregarding each other as usual. He frowned.

"It looks like they're . . . guarding the doors," he murmured. "Are they actually trying to keep us from escaping?"

"No," Shizuo said, shaking his head. "Impossible. They're not that smart."

"And they never work together," Izaya had to agree. Then he frowned. It looked to be well past noon. "How long did you let me sleep?"

Shizuo didn't answer, just grabbed his wrist and yanked him into a run. It vaguely annoyed him. _I'd follow you without prompting, you know,_ he thought. _I don't need to be dragged along like a dog._ He didn't pull his hand free, focusing instead on listening for the telltale sound of infected.

"Shit," he ground out, using Shizuo's hold on his wrist to jerk the blonde to a halt.

"The fuck!" Shizuo growled, rounding on him.

Izaya pointed with his free hand to the empty hall in front of them. "Listen," he mouthed.

Wet, gurgling sniffing.

"Shit," it was Shizuo's turn. He took three long steps backward.

Which meant, that since Izaya was right behind him, he shoved the smaller man backward, too. Izaya grunted when his back collided with the wall, and he couldn't tell whether it or Shizuo's body was harder and more unyielding.

"Will you stop shoving me around?" he whispered.

"Behind and in front of us," Shizuo muttered, ignoring him. Big surprise. "We're going to have to fight."

Izaya sighed, reaching up and clasping Shizuo's shoulders. He pushed him forward. "Will you _please_ stop shoving me around."

"I'll go first," Shizuo said, ignoring him. Again. "You seem to have figured out how to kill them quick, so back me up."

So saying, he strode forward and disappeared around the corner. Izaya's lips quirked up in a half-smirk. _You order me around so effortlessly, like you've been doing it forever._ It would be very easy to just stay right here, to wait and see if the "sniffers" killed their fellow monster.

Knowing Shizuo, he wouldn't die. Then he'd be pissed and maybe finish what he'd been threatening to do for years and kill Izaya. It made disobeying the man's last order very, very tempting. _Now's not the time to be a masochist_ , he thought with a snort.

There was no mistaking the sound of a scuffle, especially one in which Shizuo was involved. Pausing out of sight around the corner, he tried to determine how many there were just by listening. When that yielded no results, he peered around the wall.

Only two. Doable.

Sniffers, he thought with distaste as he took five seconds to observe the ongoing conflict, was as good a name as any. The disgusting creatures looked like enlarged versions of the "shamblers," but they weren't the worst versions of the infected in the city. He wondered if Shizuo had encountered them, yet.

The sniffers were fast, much faster than made Izaya comfortable fighting them head on. Naturally, that didn't slow Shizuo down one bit. The monster of Ikebukuro had ripped a chunk of plaster out of the wall for a weapon. Bashing one over the head didn't slow it down much.

Slipping his flick knife into his hand, Izaya rolled his weight back onto his heels and bent his knees just a little. Rocking forward onto the balls of his feet, he waited for the moment when both sniffers had their backs completely to him.

It didn't take long. Shizuo, displaying more intelligence than normal or perhaps operating on dumb luck, took three long sidesteps that had the sniffers following to exactly the right position. Less than half a second was all the time Izaya needed to spring into action. Reflexes honed by about a decade of nonstop fighting with Shizuo didn't let him down.

Except in the face of an infected human-turned-monster.

With a loud sniff from the nose it didn't even have, one of the creatures whipped around and sprang to meet him. _Shit, these things are so damn fast!_ Izaya thought, dropping into a slide that would make American baseball players proud. It did nothing to slow his momentum, but he did take him under the reach of the damn sniffer. He slashed at passing legs, hoping it would hamper the sniffer at least a little.

It didn't seem to do much at all. The sniffer dropped its weight forward onto disproportionately long and thick upper arms to kick its legs back. _Well, that's a first,_ Izaya thought distantly as he brought his arms up to bear the brunt of the blow. As he slammed into the wall behind him, he could only feel relief.

The creature's clawed feet hadn't scored his skin.

The force with which he connected the wall, however, made lights burst behind his eyes. His vision darkened alarmingly, his already-bruised body making its displeasure amply known. Fine. He didn't need sight. Closing his eyes, he scrambled to his feet and propelled himself away from the wall.

Tipping his own weight forward upset his center of gravity, and he tucked his head toward his chest to roll. He heard claws gouge deeply into plaster and sheetrock, and he dug his heels into the carpet to launch himself onto the sniffer's back. His knife, a cold and comforting weight in his grip, buried itself to the hilt in purple-brown flesh.

The smell of overripe body fluid immediately hit his nose with its familiar and wholly unwelcome burn. He could tell instantly by the lack of resistance under his blade that he'd missed his mark. Really, really wishing he had something capable of more damage (like a shotgun, maybe), he let go of his blade and leaped backward.

It was close, so close. The creature very nearly got him as it whirled with blinding speed and slashed at him with those death-delivering claws. Brain death, he thought an involuntary shudder, was infinitely worse than body death.

To imagine himself as a mindless killing machine with absolutely no higher cognition was the worst kind of nightmare.

Just as his mind revved up to figure out how to get his target turned around to try again for the brain stem, Shizuo smashed it over the head with a door.

Lamentably, it didn't kill the stupid creature. Happily, it did make the sniffer turn around. Izaya didn't hesitate, lunging back onto the creature and grabbing the hilt of his knife with both hands. He wrenched sideways to the left with all his strength.

The blade moved about one centimeter when it needed to move three.

With that uncanny problem-solving skill, the sniffer dug its claws into the carpet and lunged backward. Izaya's teeth audibly clacked together to prevent a cry of pain from escaping when he was crushed between the creature and the wall. He couldn't quite stop all sound, and the grunt he let out sounded too close to a groan.

Despite his vision hazing again, he didn't lose his grip on the beast. Shaking his head to clear the red cobwebs didn't do much, but it did alert him to something else. Shizuo had beaten his sniffer's head to a nasty pulp, but the ones coming from behind had caught up.

_Shit, these fuckers are annoying._

All of this passed through Izaya's mind in the two seconds it took his sniffer to jolt forward and slam backward again. This time, Izaya was ready for the tactic. He threw his whole body to the side, but keeping one hand locked around the hilt of his knife he straightened his forearm. His elbow connected with the wall this time instead of his back, and the force of the impact shoved his hand to the side.

The knife lodged in the brain stem.

It didn't sever it, but this time the shock dropped the monster to the ground. Izaya stomped down on its neck with all his strength, and a sickening _snap_ rewarded his effort.

"I'm really fucking sick of these guys!" Shizuo snarled, wielding his door (where on Earth had he _gotten_ that?) like a paper toy.

With that monstrous strength of his, he slammed it into the three oncoming sniffers. Fueled by his rage, the blow sent all three of them flying back down the length of the room. Then he leaned down, ripped Izaya's knife free, thrust it at him, grabbed his wrist, and bolted into a run.

"Uh, I don't think we can outrun them," Izaya panted, world spinning in a nauseating array of color at the sudden movement.

"Wasn't planning on trying," Shizuo grunted, and the second they were out of the sniffers' line of sight, he grabbed Izaya's shoulder and threw him out the window.

Threw him out the fucking window. Izaya didn't even have time to yelp in shock as glass shattered outward and he was suddenly falling. Already slightly disoriented, his brain scrambled to comprehend. Then he landed, hard enough to make his bones rattle but not hard enough to break.

A dumpster, he realized, grimacing as yet another foul smell did its best to make him gag. A split second later, Shizuo landed beside him. Looking up, Izaya saw the sniffers run right by the open window without even pausing.

 _At least they're still a little dumb,_ the inane thought flitted across Izaya's mind. Biting his tongue to stifle a groan, he grabbed the lip of the dumpster and heaved himself out. "Did you know this was here when you threw me out the window?" he inquired.

Shizuo gave him a grin neither nice nor contrite. "Nope."

Izaya couldn't help it. He started laughing. Then his mirth soured. "I'm never going to be clean again."

"Worry about that when we've survived," Shizuo said, hopping out of the dumpster with a lot more energy than Izaya had. "Which way?"

Izaya hesitated, mentally getting his bearings. "There are still shamblers in the front of the building," he mused. "We've still got half a city between us and Izunia."

"Then let's get moving," Shizuo said. "We need a place to stop for supplies, one with plenty of escape routes."

"Why, Shizu-chan," Izaya drawled, "are you thinking of robbing a shopping mall?"

His enemy (reluctant ally?) gave him a look laden with the desire to maim. "I'll leave cash on the counter."

The absurdity of that statement made Izaya laugh again. It hurt his ribs, and he hoped they weren't cracked. "We should get moving. There." He pointed to the shadowed alley between the buildings directly in front of them. "We're not that far from the Ikebukuro shopping mall."

"C'mon, then," Shizuo said, yet again grabbing Izaya's wrist and dragging him into a run.

The wrist Izaya had used as leverage to take down the sniffer. Pain rippled up his entire arm, but he voiced no protest and didn't bother trying to free himself. As soon as they were in the cover of the half-buried alley, Shizuo released him and stopped, gesturing the other to precede him.

 _Not willing to present me with your back?_ Izaya thought with a tiny smirk as he took point. Not that burying a knife between those shoulder blades hadn't occurred to him, but right now his own self-preservation was more important than their personal war.

That, like everything else, could wait until they'd survived.


	5. Moving Forward

It took them three hours to reach the mall. Under normal circumstances, it might have taken forty-five minutes by foot (if one included traffic conditions). Nothing about their present circumstance was normal, and Izaya was actually a little impressed they made it in the time they did.

Shizuo, made something of a tyrant by the viral outbreak, dictated every single move they made. When to stop, where to hide, when to fight. Fortunately, very little fighting occurred, the blonde seeming more eager to avoid conflict than provoke it.

Izaya was grateful, because his entire body was _sore_. He didn't even want to think about the colorful patchwork of bruises must decorate his torso. Then he wondered exactly how bad it was and _did_ want to see . . . but he didn't want Shizuo to see even a superficial weakness, and slipping away to examine the extent of his injuries was now impossible.

Truly, Shizuo had become a _tyrant_. He wouldn't let Izaya out of his sight. When he took the lead to bolt between buildings, he grabbed Izaya's arm and yanked him into a run when Izaya would _really_ rather walk. It was intensely annoying, but the one time he complained about it, Shizuo's satisfaction was all too visible.

Goddamn monster.

But if his behavior was baffling, Izaya's own was damn near incomprehensible. He couldn't quite figure out why he was allowing himself to be bossed and dragged around with no real resistance. Sure, going with the flow was easier.

It just wasn't like him.

 _Not like I have anything to compare this to,_ he reminded himself. After all, he'd never participated in a viral outbreak that caused its victims to become flesh-eating monsters. He wondered, if given the chance, was this something he'd do again?

That little gem teased his thoughts for quite some time.

The shopping mall wasn't in spectacular shape, but it'd held together better than some of the taller buildings in the city. As they walked inside, Izaya gazed around with a sense of morbid wonder. It was strange to be in one of the busiest buildings in the district when it was empty and dark.

"Should we split up?" he inquired, looking up at Shizuo. "We'd be out of here faster." Buildings may provide cover, but they also made it harder to see if infected were approaching.

Shizuo hesitated, as Izaya watched him consider he thought about taking the question back. In truth, he didn't really want to separate. He wasn't nearly as handy in a fight at close range, and it was nice to have someone watching his back. The blonde was good at distracting the monsters so Izaya could attack them from behind.

"No," the taller man said a second later. "Too risky."

Too curious about his meaning to let that slide, Izaya asked with a low purr in his voice, "Afraid I'll run off and ditch you, Shizu-chan?"

His enemy-turned-reluctant-ally gave him that not-grin that exposed most of his straight white teeth. "You'll get your dumb ass killed. _I'm_ going to be the one to kill you, can't let some stupid monster have the pleasure."

Izaya strolled past him, spreading his hands and shaking his head with a shrug. "One stupid monster is as good as another."

A hand clamped down on his shoulder and squeezed so hard his bones wailed in protest. Shizuo spun him around and lowered his head until their noses almost touched. "Don't. Fucking. Tempt me."

"If I didn't," Izaya said, light and teasing, "you'd think I was infected, wouldn't you?"

To his surprise, Shizuo released him with what _might_ have been an amused snort. "Water, food, maybe an energy drink. And—" he looked Izaya up and down—"a public shower? You fucking stink."

With a spring in his step, Izaya trotted down the long darkened foyer. "That makes you sound _high-maintenance_ , Shizu-chan." He angled a smirk over his shoulder.

Yet again, an iron grip caught him and forced him to stop. "Don't get too far ahead of me," Shizuo growled. "We're staying on the left side of the building, ground floor only." He pointed a few shops down. "Go in there, try to find a small pack and fill it with what you can find. Not too heavy. I'll stay out here and keep watch."

He squeezed Izaya's arm even harder, one more bruise for the tapestry on his skin. "No more than five minutes. Got it?"

Izaya raised his wrist, turning it for Shizuo to see. "I'm not wearing a watch. How am I supposed to know when five minutes has passed?"

"If I go in there and fucking kick your ass for taking too long, it's been more than five minutes," Shizuo snapped, shoving Izaya toward the convenience shop.

Izaya stumbled a little before catching himself. With the agility and grace for which he was renowned, he spun to throw the blonde a smirk. "Yes, Shizu-chan. Anything else?"

"Yes. You now have four minutes and forty seconds."

Laughing, forgetting about his body's pain, he trotted into the shop. More than half the shelves were tipped, contents scattered and crushed on the floor. It was easy to picture people fleeing the mall in a panic from swarms of infected.

As he picked through the remains, he considered what Shizuo had said. _A shower would be nice,_ he thought wistfully, _but I wonder if the grime is masking our human smell at all._ Was there something he could use to make it harder for the sniffers to find them?

That thought chased itself around while he collected protein bars and energy shots in plastic tubes. At bottled water, he hesitated. Water was a critical component in survival, but it was also heavy. He added only two to his stash.

_It's not like we're in a desert. There are supplies all over the city._

There were no backpacks in a store like this, but he did find a small canvas shopping bag with an over-the-shoulder strap. It wasn't so big as to be cumbersome, so he figured it would do. He also added a package of moist wipes. Then he found and opened a bottle of Aspirin and downed two.

Gazing around, he spent a few moments wondering if a shotgun would indeed make life easier. Visualizing himself wielding one struck him funny. Still, it would be nice to have a weapon with some reach. Close-quarter combat, where even a single scratch could destroy him, was not ideal.

 _There's a sporting goods shop down a bit. I could probably find a decent hiking stick._ Grabbing a few extra bars and energy shots and one more bottle of water, he headed back to the foyer.

Shizuo hadn't moved, but from behind Izaya could see tension radiating from every centimeter of the man's body. Izaya paused. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Shizuo's back, and for a good three seconds the urge to leap on him and bury his knife between the monster's shoulder blades nearly overwhelmed him.

Deliberately scuffing his shoe, he started walking again. Shizuo turned to him, those honey-hazel eyes of his raking over Izaya's frame and finding the bag. Was that a flicker of approval? Izaya shrugged it off and held it out.

Shizuo didn't argue, taking the bag and slinging it over his head and pushing it to his back. He accepted the bars and energy shot, downing the latter first before taking a long pull from the water bottle. Izaya watched him, nibbling at his own protein bar.

"I need to visit the sporting goods store," he said after a moment.

"Why?" Shizuo inquired, but he sounded a little too distracted to care.

Izaya idly withdrew one of his three flick knives and tossed it up, deftly catching it. "I can't turn every inanimate object around me into a weapon," he said. "I don't have a monster's strength."

That brought Shizuo's attention back into focus, and his expression said he'd like to use that strength on Izaya. "True," he said, baring his teeth in a loose approximation of a grin, "you're fucking useless in close-quarter combat."

Izaya opened his mouth to retort, but he closed it without a sound. His head canted to the side. "Did you hear that?"

Two days of constant fighting had worn down Shizuo's natural resistance to Izaya's (rather morbid) sense of humor. He instantly dropped into a defensive posture. "What?"

Izaya turned. "I thought I heard a cat meowing." For some reason, it hadn't occurred to him to wonder if animals other than humans were susceptible to the virus.

 _If they are,_ he thought as he automatically moved toward the sound, _I'm not sure if they'd be better or worse than humans._

This time, he dodged Shizuo's grab for him. He ignored the other's protest, darting ahead. And anyway, he was overreacting; Izaya went less than a dozen paces before peering over a fallen beam. There, hunched in a little ball, huddled a cat.

What its original color might have been, Izaya couldn't tell. Dirt, soot, and ash had smudged its coat into a uniform gray-brown, but the eyes peering up at him were clear. There didn't appear to be any hideous mutations, and neither did the little creature make aggressive moves to attack him.

That didn't stop Shizuo from picking up a chunk of building to hurl at it. The cat hissed as it sprang out of danger, but then it just hunkered right back down and stopped moving.

"I don't think it's infected, Shizu-chan," Izaya said, crouching down. "If animals are surviving the virus, or can't be infected, this kind of information could be useful to anyone on the outside."

Shizuo didn't respond, but he also didn't try to kill the little feline again. Izaya extended his hand, prepared to beat a hasty retreat if need be. To his surprise, the cat immediately stood up and padded to him. A cool, wet nosed touched his finger tip, then it rubbed its cheek against his hand.

Izaya sighed faintly, wishing he could bring the cat with him for blood tests. It was possible this little thing simply hadn't come into contact with infected. It was also possible the virus couldn't be transmitted to non-humans. But what if animals had certain proteins in their blood that could help with finding an antigen?

"Long shot, I guess," he murmured, unable to help a smile when the cat put its small paws on his knee and started purring for more affection.

Affection which the raven gave without hesitation. When the cat stretched up, Izaya leaned down so their noses could touch. The cat rubbed against him, purring vigorously. Shizuo made a faint sound, prompting Izaya to look up at him.

"What?"

Shizuo looked vaguely amused. "I've never once seen you do a nice thing. And here you are in the middle of the end of the world petting a cat."

"I do nice things all the time, Shizu-chan," Izaya countered. "I just never do them to _you_. After all, it's only humans I love. And cute, sweet little cats."

He didn't miss how the blonde rolled his eyes. Curling his fingers around the cat's small body, Izaya lifted it and lightly kissed the top of its head.

"Hurry out of the city," he whispered, "and find a safe place away from the madness." He released the little creature, and it scampered away and out of sight.

Shizuo shook his head. "World isn't ending," he muttered. "It's already ended."

Izaya rose to his feet, pointlessly brushing dirt off the knees of his jeans. Not his favorite kind of pant, to be sure, but denim was more durable than the usual slacks he wore. He popped the rest of the protein bar into his mouth and chased it down with water, then looked around for a garbage can.

Which really, that was a senseless thing to do given that litter and debris was _every_ where. Still, adding to it felt excessive. As he padded to the nearest can, he looked out the broken windows. Instantly, his heart jumped into his throat and he quickly ducked behind the wall.

"I see them, too," Shizuo said, somehow already beside him. "Let's get to the sporting goods store real quiet." He gestured Izaya to precede him.

The raven didn't protest, just quietly slipping through rubble toward his destination. Shizuo kept close to him, eyes constantly scanning to make sure they weren't detected. Izaya stayed low, not a whisper of sound betraying his progression forward.

Just as he reached the store, Shizuo grabbed his wrist. "Be careful," the man hissed _right_ in his ear. "There are huge windows in this store."

Izaya could feel the heat of each word, and only the threat outside kept him from making a snide remark about it. He simply nodded, and when Shizuo released him he leaned a cautious eye around the corner.

Quite a few shamblers (it annoyed him, but Shizuo's stupid names for the infected had stuck in his mind) milled about, but they directed no real focus on the mall in particular. Lowering himself into a crouch, Izaya cast his eyes about the trashed store to find the best place to hide.

There were plenty, what with shelves and inventory scattered everywhere.

Digging his heels down, he sprang forward into cover, keeping as low as possible. A cautious peek indicated no infected had noticed him, and Izaya relaxed a little. Shifting his attention to the store, he mentally assessed the new problem.

With everything in shambles, finding his desired object wouldn't be as quick and easy as he'd first assumed. Especially while trying to stay out of sight and avoid conflict. Fervently hoping there were no sniffers nearby, Izaya examined everything he could see without leaving cover.

Still hovering near the store's entry, Shizuo's entire body radiated tension as his gaze constantly moved. Izaya hoped the other man would let him know if the threat level increased, and he once more bolted from his spot to duck behind another damaged shelf.

This vantage gave him a better view of the store's contents, and he spotted nice hiking sticks only about ten meters from his position. And while there were plenty of places to hide, there was also a lot of clutter all over the floor. While many shamblers didn't seem to have use of their eyes, pretty much all of them had keen senses of hearing.

Nothing for it. Taking a deep breath, he slunk forward and eased his way through the obstacle course that the store floor had become. Just in case, he also made sure his shadow didn't betray him and kept his movements slow and liquid. Every few feet he flashed Shizuo a quick look, and it weirdly comforted him when each time Shizuo made eye contact and gave a short nod to indicate he was still in the clear.

 _I'm sure I couldn't possibly have_ ever _imagined working with him like this,_ Izaya thought vaguely as he stopped and carefully picked through the various hiking sticks.

While metal was certainly the more durable choice, it was also heavier than wood. Given the chance, he would always choose speed over power. So he selected a solid wood pole with a five-centimeter circumference, longer than he was tall, and with an ivy design carved down the length. Pretty, elegant, functional.

Shizuo snapped his fingers, just soft enough Izaya heard but not loud enough to carry. He looked up to find the blonde holding up a finger as if to indicate, _wait_. Izaya nodded, and Shizuo's eyes shifted to the windows.

Three seconds. Five. Ten. Every muscle in Izaya's body went rigid with the strain of waiting, the anticipation of lunging to safety and knowing he wouldn't have a lot of time to remain unseen. Then Shizuo dropped his hand and mouthed,

" _Now_!"

Izaya bolted forward, clutching his prize, and skidded around the corner. Shizuo grabbed him to help steady him, pushing him out of sight and then watching the windows for a few seconds longer.

"I don't think they saw," he said, almost inaudible. He pointed across the foyer. "Get behind the benches over there. We'll head out on the other side of the mall."

Izaya nodded, saving the snark for later. After all, his sense of self-preservation was stronger than his desire to give Shizuo a hard time. For now, at least, it effectively silenced his tongue.

He would make up for it later.


	6. The Art of a Good Idea

"How much do you know about this virus?" Shizuo asked.

He'd been quiet for so long, the sound of his voice startled Izaya a little. "Not a whole lot," he admitted. "I know it attacks the brain, hence the death of the victim's humanity."

"Is it reversible?" Shizuo asked.

Izaya looked across the ruined cityscape and felt a pang. "No. There's nothing to reverse. The virus doesn't just set up shop and take the reins of a body. It attacks and consumes the brain. From what I gleaned, the incubation period is less than an hour. The terrible damage it does to the host body actually kills it."

"These . . . infected wandering around are dead?" Shizuo said, sounding highly skeptical.

"I guess that depends on your definition," Izaya replied. "Technically, there are still electrical impulses being sent from the brain to the body that keep it moving. But it's all mechanical, there is no higher brain function. There's no cure, and it can't be reversed because the brain is _gone_. And as of yet, humans lack regenerative capability."

Shizuo rubbed a hand over his face. "Fuck."

Izaya's lips twitched. "Succinctly, yes. Fuck."

Blinking, Shizuo gave him a weird look.

"What?" Izaya inquired.

The taller man shrugged one shoulder. "Don't think I've ever heard you cuss."

Izaya smirked. "It's a form of communication lacking in wit and finesse, so I rarely see the need to use it."

Now Shizuo looked like he was thinking about punching Izaya in the throat. Somewhat belatedly, Izaya wondered at how much restraint the blonde demonstrated all the time. For a protozoan, at least, it was remarkable.

"The facility is two blocks away," Shizuo changed the subject. "I don't want to have to rush around, so let's not attract any attention." He made to rise from the rubble they'd ducked behind.

Izaya grabbed his wrist and lightly tugged. "Wait."

"What?" Shizuo growled, but he did crouch back down.

"Haven't you noticed by now," Izaya asked, "that the infected seem to always turn up where we are?"

"What, like they're tracking us?" Shizuo demanded.

Izaya drummed his fingers on his leg. "Not tracking, exactly," he said. "Hunting is a better word. How long did we have at the mall before shamblers showed up?"

"Not very," Shizuo conceded.

"I've been thinking about that," Izaya said, making a sweeping gesture with one hand. "Why do you think those jets we saw only dropped small bombs? It didn't do much besides topple buildings and ruin the streets. We've encountered a whole lot more infected than human corpses. Don't you think that's odd?"

Something dark flickered over Shizuo's face. He really wasn't good at controlling his expression. "If the government did this on purpose," he muttered, "then maybe they weren't trying to kill off the infected."

"Maybe," Izaya added, "they were trying to make it harder for humans to escape the infected. To see how long a couple hundred could infect and turn a couple hundred thousand."

Shizuo made a vexed sound. "Do you really think we're going to find anything like that at the facility?"

It was Izaya's turn to shrug. "Honestly, I don't know what we'll find. Maybe nothing. Maybe everything will already have been destroyed." His lips curled into another smirk. "You want to throw in the towel, Shizu-chan?"

"No," Shizuo said, "and I'm still not convinced you're not responsible."

Izaya sighed. "About the sniffers, I still can't figure out what smells attract them. If I thought it would help, I'd suggest covering ourselves with mud or gasoline or something."

Shizuo raised an eyebrow. "Gasoline?"

Izaya smirked. "It would be easier to light you on fire, I'll admit. But at the moment, my only motivation is to make it harder for them to sniff us out."

Shizuo looked around them. "Not a bad idea," he grumbled, sounding a bit like he'd rather gargle glass than admit that. "The mud, at least."

"For the sake of expedience," Izaya said, "I have another idea. However, it's significantly . . . shall I say, more distasteful?"

Shizuo's expression immediately grew guarded. "What is it?"

"We already know the infected ignore each other," Izaya pointed out. "They clearly have no interest in their own infected flesh."

Shifting a bit, Shizuo gave him a mild glare. "Where's this going?"

"I'm pretty confident that if we covered ourselves in infected . . . gore, the sniffers wouldn't be able to hunt us by smell."

It was amusing to watch the dawning horror cross the blonde's face. Those honey-hazel eyes of his went wide. " _What_?"

"Shamblers are plenty juicy," Izaya couldn't help himself. It was just too fun to tease the other man. "You flatten them to a pulp so we have a nice amount of fluid to easily smear over ourselves, and voila. The ripeness of that smell will mask our own body's odors and we'll be all but invisible."

Shizuo stared at him in silence for almost ten seconds. Izaya counted, only barely managing to keep from laughing out loud.

"You aren't serious," the blonde finally said, but it sounded more like a question.

Izaya chuckled. "Unfortunately, I'm completely serious. I know it sounds repulsive, but you can't tell me it's not a good idea. Because it is. After all, it was _my_ idea, and I don't have bad ones. Besides, you're a monster, you shouldn't be squeamish about—"

"Izaya." Low, strained. "Shut up."

Izaya did, but only because he could see the resignation in Shizuo's eyes. The smirk stayed firmly affixed to his lips as he watched Shizuo's mind work. He _knew_ the other man was trying to think of something, _any_ thing better than rolling in the body fluids of an infected, dead monster.

_Not that I'm overly fond of it, either,_ Izaya thought. Pragmatism just won over personal comfort. That, and the desire to survive.

"Fine," Shizuo ground out.

"Then we should get to it," Izaya said. "And somewhere farther away from our destination so we don't draw attention."

Shizuo stood up. "Back that way. Come on." So saying, he grabbed Izaya's arm and rather rudely yanked him up.

Izaya's body whined in protest of the rough treatment, but he ignored it as usual. "If this works," he said as Shizuo pulled him along, "maybe you can finally get some sleep. You can't survive on 5-Hour Energy forever, you know."

"I'll be fine," Shizuo grunted.

"Monster or not," Izaya said, "even you have your limits, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo snorted. "Didn't know you cared."

"I don't," Izaya said immediately, "but I'm counting on you. You're useless to me if you collapse on the street due to exhaustion."

That garnered no response, and a weird silence fell between them. It felt heavy, and Izaya abruptly wished he could see Shizuo's face. _What are you thinking about, protozoan? This isn't like you._

It didn't last very long, but only because they quickly found a cluster of shamblers. Shizuo used his hold on Izaya to roughly shove him behind an overturned dumpster between two buildings.

"I'll go in first. You follow and back me up. Don't take unnecessary chances."

Izaya gave him a strange smile. "I never do, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo darted out of cover and yanked up a street sign on his way past. Izaya heard the metal groan as it warped under the pressure of his grip. With that ridiculous strength of his, the added weight didn't seem to slow him in the slightest.

The shamblers, seven of them in total, turned with that bizarre synchronicity to face the blonde. They half staggered, half jogged to meet him, movements jerky and mechanical. Though Izaya knew the reason for it, it still unnerved him a little to watch it.

Shizuo swung the street sign, and the first blow caught three of them. They went flying, and Shizuo turned his rage on the next four. One of the first three didn't rise, two did. Izaya nimbly leaped from cover and sprinted toward his first target.

Perhaps slowed by Shizuo's initial attack, the infected didn't react fast enough to a second human attacker. Izaya lashed out with his hiking stick-turned-quarterstaff, careful to hold it closer to the center so the force didn't break the stick in two. And though he lacked the strength of the other man, the shambler still tumbled to the ground.

Izaya drove the butt of the quarterstaff (he liked that name better than 'stick') into the ground and used it to propel himself as high in the air as he could. A quick twist at his center, he flicked his weapon up and finished his spin by slamming the pole down on the shambler's head.

It cracked open like a rotten watermelon, and the creature didn't rise.

A flicker of movement in the corner of his eye alerted him to impending danger, and he flung himself forward into a quick roll. His conditioned reflexes saved his life, and he barely managed to raise the pole between him and the second shambler. As a mouth gaped and snapped for his throat, he put both his feet to the creature's gut and kicked upward, hard.

It sent the infected flying over his head, and Izaya lunged to his feet to crack his staff down on the shambler's head. Two down.

The remaining four were in various stages of defeat, but they had fanned out to loosely surround Shizuo. As Izaya watched, one of them lunged for Shizuo's back while the blonde dealt with the two coming at him from the front.

Not bothering to waste time with a verbal warning, Izaya sprinted for the infected and pivoted on the balls of his feet to gain momentum. He struck the shambler across the shins with his quarterstaff, and the satisfying sound of bones crunching greeted his effort. The creature fell harmlessly to the ground while Shizuo dispatched the remaining three with his street sign.

Both men straightened, and Izaya inwardly grimaced. While he may think his idea was a good one, that didn't necessarily mean he relished the idea of covering himself in a monster's guts. Especially these monsters, since their body fluids _reeked_.

Shizuo was watching him with a tiny smirk. "You first," he invited. "It _was_ your idea."

Wishing he had something with which to plug his nose, Izaya took a few steps to get started. Then he froze, ears straining, trying to determine from which direction the sound came. Wet, gurgling snuffling.

Shizuo moved, a few long strides placing him at Izaya's side. He turned so they were back-to-back. "I hear it, too," he whispered. "Keep your guard up."

_Why couldn't the damn thing have shown up in another thirty seconds? It would've been nice to know if my idea works._ Izaya tried to look every direction at once, Shizuo's presence strong and slightly comforting at his back.

A second later, he blinked and found himself on the ground.

_What the . . ._ His mind aimlessly rambled around, and he wondered why he was so dizzy.

"Izaya!" Faint, vague, distant.

An impression of pressure and movement.

Blink.

Adrenaline abruptly surged in Izaya's veins as his senses rallied. _It hit us from above_! Panicky desperation flooded his body as he rolled and managed to get his legs under him. They wobbled, but not enough to prevent him from bolting forward.

If he weren't so close to a building, he probably would have fallen. With support, he managed to find his balance and spun to figure out what had happened.

Shizuo was trying to fend off three sniffers.

_Shit,_ Izaya thought pointlessly, eyes darting around to locate his hiking staff. It lay in the middle of the street where it'd been knocked from his hands.

Shaking his head to clear the lingering cobwebs (which helped not at all), he grabbed one of his knives and sprinted forward. His target, the sniffer closest him, spun to meet him. As it jumped, Izaya dropped into a slide right under it.

Unlike back in the office building, this sniffer didn't fall for his tactic. It spun in midair and lashed down with long claws. Izaya sucked in a startled breath when the fabric of his jacket tore, but the attack didn't touch his skin. He threw his knife, and it buried itself to the hilt in the sniffer's only eye.

It didn't shriek. The infected never made any sounds of pain. It did, however, succeed in making the sniffer retreat a little, and the sound of its sniffing increased as it circled Izaya. Dropping into a defensive crouch, Izaya grabbed another of his knives and wished he was closer to his hiking staff.

In his peripheral, he saw a second sniffer go flying from Shizuo's blow. The creature landed a dozen paces from Izaya, and instead of renewing its attack on the blonde it headed straight for the raven. Izaya's heart jumped unpleasantly. No way could he take on two sniffers at once.

Best not try. Springing forward, he ran straight for the sniffer he'd blinded. The beast instantly lunged to meet him, and Izaya pushed his own nerves to the limit. At the absolute last possible second, he threw himself to the side with all the strength his legs could muster.

A satisfying smacking sound told him his plan worked; both sniffers tumbled to the ground in a tangle of limbs and claws. Izaya didn't waste any time congratulating himself. He drove his knife down into the blinded sniffer's neck as hard as he could, and his aim was true. It severed the spinal cord, and the monster went limp.

This time, he couldn't avoid the second one. A thick arm caught him right across the chest and hurled him backward onto the broken street.

The force of the blow and impact with the concrete knocked the air out of him. Pain exploded in his chest, and it felt like his lungs had been crushed in a giant fist. He let out a weak cough, and to his horror he tasted the iron tang of blood. Even worse, darkness curled around the edges of his vision.

_If you black out,_ he thought desperately, _you'll die. Get up!_

"Izaya!"

The sound of Shizuo's voice was followed by a clattering sound, and he saw his quarterstaff roll to a stop right by him. Close enough he could reach out and grab it. A task which sounded so simple, should have been easy as breathing.

Only, breathing had turned into a laborious chore, and moving his arm a handful of centimeters might as well have been attempting to move a mountain. With the dark haze creeping closer, he used every single iota of strength in his body and grabbed the staff. Rolling onto his back, he only just managed to bring it up.

The sniffer's gaping jaws clamped shut on the wooden pole instead of around Izaya's throat. Stopping its teeth didn't do a thing to prevent the weight of its body slamming down on the raven, though. A pathetically weak cry forced itself from his lips as the momentum bore it down on his already agonized chest.

A heart beat later, the weight was lifted off him. Izaya watched Shizuo hurl the sniffer away, watched the creature hit the street so hard there was a loud crunch. The sniffer instantly scrabbled to its feet and lunged toward Shizuo.

The blonde monster swung his street sign. Once. Twice. Three times. Each blow was followed by a wet crunching sound. He found himself picturing a rotten cantaloupe. The next second, strong hands clasped his arms and pulled so he was now sitting up.

That didn't do much aside from add dizziness to the plethora of symptoms already afflicting him, but Izaya tried to clear his head. He managed to smirk at the rather blurry-around-the-edges blonde.

"Saving my life, Shizu-chan? If all it takes is apocalypse to make you turn soft, I would've planned something years ago."

Shizuo glared at him, but Izaya thought it was a milder one than usual. "I was just returning the favor."

Izaya chuckled, but it ended in a dry cough. "When have I ever saved your life?"

"You warned me of an attack coming from behind," Shizuo reminded him. "Can you stand? You look like shit."

"You're so sweet, Shizu-chan," Izaya cackled, putting a hand on the man's shoulder to push himself to his feet. The ground swayed nauseatingly under his feet. "Should we get on with it? Not sure I'm up to another sniffer attack just now."

"There's blood on your lips," Shizuo said, and he sounded strange. "Did that thing get you?"

"No," Izaya assured him. "I just bit the inside of my cheek when it threw me to the ground. As long as I don't put any infected gore in my mouth, I'll be safe."

To his surprise, Shizuo snorted, and it sounded vaguely amused. "Hurry up, then. Sniffers seem to travel around in packs."

Walking the few dozen paces to the destroyed shamblers took almost more effort than Izaya still possessed. The smell of their remains almost turned his stomach inside out, but he kept it down by sheer force of will.

"Guess I'll have to kiss my jacket goodbye," he muttered. No way on earth he'd be able to get the terrible smell out.

"Wow, you're really doing it," Shizuo muttered as Izaya finished the disgusting task.

"Of course," Izaya said, dropping to one knee and wrapping an arm around his ribs. Breathing hurt. "Your turn, Shizu-chan."

The blonde grimaced, but he still knelt and covered himself in gore. "Not that we'll know if it works until it might be too late."

Izaya's head whipped around at the sound of wet snuffling. "Or right now," he hissed, pointing.

Shizuo grabbed his wrist and yanked him into a staggering run. He came even closer to blacking out, and the only thing keeping him moving was Shizuo's grip on him. The blonde pushed him down behind a dumpster and ducked behind it, too.

_Even that smells better than the infected,_ the inane thought fluttered across his mind.

"They found their fellow sniffers," Shizuo said, voice so low as to not carry. "By now, they would have caught our scent. I think your shitty idea might actually be working."

"Shut up," Izaya muttered, coughing a laugh and tasting blood again.

"Look," Shizuo breathed, surprise blossoming in his expression. "They're following our trail—back the way we came."

Izaya peered around the dumpster, watching the sniffers gallop along the direction from which they'd come. _Wow,_ _it is working._ Gratified to know his agony wasn't completely in vain, Izaya lurched to his feet.

"Come on, we should go before more show up. You did remember to get shambler gore on the bottom of your shoes, right?"

"Of course," Shizuo said, vaulting over the dumpster. "If we hurry, we should reach Izunia soon."

Izaya's legs wobbled treacherously. He smirked. "Lead the way, Shizu-chan." That way, the blonde would see his whole body shaking or hear how hard breathing had become.


	7. Izunia Pharma

It took Shizuo a while to notice. Partly because he was trying to look every direction at once to make sure he didn't miss any danger. Partly because they were already moving pretty slowly to make as little noise as possible.

Something was wrong with Izaya. At first, Shizuo didn't mention it. _If it was serious,_ he reasoned, _he'd say something._

Then it occurred to him that maybe the exact opposite was true. Izaya wouldn't say anything because it _was_ serious. Just the thought of that annoyed him.

"What's wrong?" he demanded. "You're walking funny."

As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back and word it differently.

Sure enough, Izaya's pale lips stretched into that goddamn smirk Shizuo fucking _hated_. "Prying into my personal life, Shizu-chan? I guess monsters don't have any hobbies, and apparently too much time on their hands. We're in the middle of the end of the world and all you can do is stare at me?"

"I could break your neck instead," Shizuo growled, only barely restraining himself from doing just that. "You're useless to me dead, so if you're hurt, tell me."

Izaya's smirk mellowed into a half-smile. "Of course I'm hurt. I've been thrown around altogether too much these last three days. But it's just bruises, Shizu-chan. A few hours of sleep and a cup of tea and I'll be right as rain."

Shizuo eyed him skeptically, but he had a feeling that Izaya would just talk circles around him if he pressed further. Maybe when they were safe inside Izunia's facility, he would have time to force the issue.

"Come on, then," he said, rising from his crouch. "It's just over there."

It felt like tempting fate, daring to hope they'd reach the facility with no further issue. So when that's exactly what happened, the blonde grew suspicious of some kind of trick. Izaya's idea of covering themselves in infected gore had prevented any more run-ins with sniffers, and avoiding shamblers was a matter of moving carefully.

But fate had one more curve-ball up its sleeve. The facility's front was intact and appeared almost completely undamaged. No shattered windows, no cracked and crumbling foundation. The doors were tightly sealed.

"Shit," Shizuo hissed, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw ached. "Every building in the city's a fucking ruin and this one's a goddamn fortress."

"Not entirely," Izaya whispered, lightly placing his hand on the blonde's arm. His touch was shockingly cold. "Look, north side of the building."

There, barely noticeable from this side of the building, part of the roof had caved in. Shizuo had a sinking feeling it was the only breach, and there was a huge glaring problem.

Izunia's research facility was a seven story building, and there weren't any convenient ledges or hand holds in sight with which to scale the walls.

"How are we gonna get up there?" he muttered, glaring around as if the building itself was responsible for all his suffering.

Izaya leaned against the wall. "Do you suppose the infected were polite enough to leave a ladder laying around? Or perhaps a rope and grappling hook?"

In spite of himself, Shizuo snorted. "See any around here we could ask?"

Izaya's crimson eyes flicked around, clearly sizing up their surroundings. Shizuo found himself sizing up Izaya. It wasn't his imagination. Not only was the flea much paler than usual, he was also obviously favoring his chest.

_Just bruises, my ass. I'm willing to bet he has cracked ribs. He hit the asphalt hard earlier, and he was hit harder by the sniffer._

Fortunately, while the facility's structural integrity presented the immediate problem of how to get in, it would keep the damn infected out.

"Hopefully there aren't any infected inside," Izaya said abruptly.

Shizuo blinked. "Shit, that didn't even occur to me."

That damn smirk came back. "Of course it didn't. It's my job to think of plans, yours to put them in action."

Shizuo resisted the urge to put his fist to that smug face. "Go on, then. Let's hear your brilliant plan to get us in there."

"Let's go over there, first," Izaya suggested dryly. "We can hardly see the backside of the building from here."

Reaching forward, Shizuo grabbed Izaya's thin wrist. "Go. I'll follow you."

Whether his brusque command irked Izaya or not, the flea didn't react. He just carefully picked his way around the facility, and Shizuo carefully watched him. _He looks fragile,_ the thought flickered unbidden through his mind. He felt an unexpected pulse of anger toward the sniffer responsible.

The back of the building looked to be in similar condition to the front. The structural integrity appeared to be sound, and Shizuo took that as a good omen. They'd be safe if they were able to get inside.

"Have you noticed there are no windows on this building?" Izaya inquired. "In my experience, that usually means there are things going on inside no one wants witnessed."

"Could've been an architectural oversight," Shizuo offered.

Izaya chuckled. It ended with a wet cough. "Up there. The building across the alley would be easy to scale." In its crumbled state, there were plenty of hand holds. "Could you jump that far?"

Shizuo mentally gauged the distance from the building Izaya indicated to the hole in Izunia's roof. Even if he couldn't, he reasoned, the fall wouldn't hurt him. "Yeah," he said. "Can you?"

The smaller man didn't look particularly confident, but he shrugged one shoulder. "If you catch me," he said.

His tone was light, offhanded, almost flippant. But the undercurrent of vulnerability somehow got under Shizuo's skin. "Then wait here for me," he instructed. "Stay out of sight."

Izaya smiled. "Of course." A tiny hesitation. "Be careful."

Strange. This man had never uttered a single word of concern, and now here were some directed at _him_ of all people? It was a good opportunity to needle Izaya just like the flea always needled him. To do so felt unnecessarily cruel.

_He's hurt, I'm about to leave him alone down here where I can't quickly come to his aid if infected appear._ _He might actually be scared._

So Shizuo just nodded and turned to sprint toward the building. A jump from powerful legs carried him a good distance up the wall, and he grabbed onto brick and mortar just as his momentum started to reverse. A glance downward showed Izaya watching him with a tiny smile, and when Shizuo met his eyes he shook his head.

Annoyed (but not nearly as annoyed as usual), Shizuo started climbing. As he did, he peered through cracks to determine what this had once been. An apartment complex, that was immediately apparent. Beds, tables, furniture, all scattered and damaged and discarded.

_It's going to take this city a long time to recover,_ the thought rose unbidden. He already knew from Izaya Shinjuku wasn't in any better condition than Ikebukuro. Was the rest of Tokyo in such dire straits? He tried not to think about it. _At least there aren't bodies in the wreckage._

Homes could be rebuilt. Lost lives could not.

When he reached a decent-enough height, he stopped climbing and looked around for a ledge or something from which to leap across. He spotted an alley balcony. The support struts were badly cracked, but there just might be enough left to hold his weight for the few seconds he would need.

More than half the balcony had already broken off, but there were a good sixteen centimeters of ledge. Climbing up, he balanced on the balls of his feet and tried to step as lightly as possible. Without giving himself the time to freak out over how far he was about to jump, he bent his knees and pushed forward with all his strength.

The ledge groaned, and he hoped it survived Izaya climbing onto it. Then he was slamming into Izunia's facility, hands scrabbling for purchase. They found a jutting piece of rebar, and as he hauled himself up he offered a fervent prayer of thanks he hadn't landed on _that_.

Below, the inside of the building was dark. With no windows, he'd known it would be. Grabbing the bag Izaya had prepared, he rummaged around. Sure enough, Izaya had stashed two small flashlights. There was even an extra pack of batteries.

He almost smiled. _At least I'm stuck with someone who knows how to survive._ Turning on the flashlight, he swept it around. The drop to the floor was only a couple meters. Perfect. Turning off the flashlight and returning it to the bag, he leaned forward until he could see Izaya and beckoned.

The raven nodded, darting across the alley to the apartment complex. Shizuo watched his progress, and it was slow. For the first time, he felt a stirring of something more than just annoyance that Izaya might be keeping things from him.

_Am I actually worried about the flea?_

His gut reaction to that thought wasn't as strong as he would've expected.

Finally, Izaya clambered onto the remains of the balcony. "Wow," he called softly. "You made it look so easy, but it's farther than I thought."

"You'll be fine," Shizuo said brusquely. "Just jump." He closed his teeth around, _I'm right here._ Partly because it was too sentimental, and partly because it came to his lips too easily.

He saw Izaya take a deep breath and physically steel himself. Crimson eyes closed, and Izaya rocked his weight a couple times as if to build up momentum. Then he opened his eyes and leaped.

A pale, slender hand stretched out, and Shizuo's heart skipped a beat. _Shit, he's not going to make it!_ His body reacted without thought. One hand curled tightly around the naked rebar he'd discovered earlier as he made a desperate grab for the other man.

A grip capable of bending metal locked around a thin wrist. He felt Izaya grab his wrist in return, then they were falling, and Shizuo only barely managed to raise his feet so his legs could absorb the shock. It couldn't halt their downward motion, though, and he heard Izaya let out a tiny, barely audible sound.

His heart twisted and his gut clenched. It was barely audible, but it was the first helpless cry of pain he'd ever heard the raven utter.

"Shit," he grunted. "Hold on, Izaya."

Digging his feet into the wall, he pulled upward and really wished his feet had better purchase. The rebar groaned and bent under the strain, but it held. For the first time that he could remember, Shizuo felt true gratitude for his monstrous strength. Without it, both he and Izaya would have fallen.

As it was, he managed to heave them upward enough Izaya could reach the hole in the roof. "Grab hold," Shizuo ordered, pulling Izaya up a little higher.

The raven obeyed, then nodded. "I'm good. You can let go."

It took surprising effort to let go of Izaya's wrist, and Shizuo's heart skipped another few beats while Izaya frantically grabbed hold with his other hand. Quick as he could, Shizuo again hauled himself up, then he reached down to grasp Izaya's wrists and heave him over as well.

It wasn't a well thought-out plan. As soon as Izaya's thin body was over the edge, his forward momentum instantly sent them both toppling inside. There was no way Shizuo could catch them both, so he didn't try. Without thought, he pulled Izaya against him and turned midair. His back connected with the floor hard, but his body shielded the raven.

For several long moments, the two lay where they'd fallen, breathing hard, hearts pounding. Izaya moved first, but it was only to roll off Shizuo and onto the floor. A breathless laugh bubbled up from his throat.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think that was the worst thing we've yet been through."

Caught off guard, Shizuo absolutely couldn't help bursting into laughter. "Yeah," he managed. "I think you're right."

Silence for a few seconds, then he realized Izaya had leaned up on one elbow and was gazing down at him. His expression, contemplative and mild, lacked its usual sharpness. "Huh."

"What?"

Izaya blinked slowly. "I've never seen you laugh before."

He didn't laugh often, really. That didn't prevent him from making the sarcastic comment, "I just never laugh around you."

To his shock, Izaya smiled. Not a smirk, not a leer, not any of his usual mocking grins. It was a soft expression that made him look younger and . . .

"No, I suppose we're usually too busy trying to kill each other."

"Yeah," Shizuo said lamely. "Might have something to do with it." What the hell was this weird atmosphere?

"It really makes me wonder why you just tried so hard to save my life," Izaya murmured.

Shizuo blinked. _Me, too._ Maybe he'd hit his head some time in the last three days. He didn't remember hitting his head, but if he had, he probably wouldn't remember. Realizing the silence was stretching awkwardly long, he gingerly sat up.

"You're no good to me dead."

That damn smirk came back. "That's true. Well, shall we see if we can find what we came for?"

Deciding he was no worse for wear after their latest adventure, Shizuo stood up and offered Izaya a hand. "Let's go."

After a short hesitation, Izaya took the help, and his hand was cold as ice.


	8. When Fortune Smiles

Their fall had landed them in what appeared to be a large storage room. When Shizuo tried the lights, they didn't work. He hadn't really expected them to.

"This facility's a lot bigger than it looks," Izaya said. "I looked up the blueprints when I was researching, and there's a huge backup generator in the basement. If we can get it up and running, we'd have some power. Maybe we could even get the security cameras working. Then if any infected get inside, they wouldn't be able to take us by surprise."

Shizuo raised an eyebrow. "You looked up the blueprints. Because that's something a secure research facility would just have on public record."

A mischievous glitter sparked in Izaya's eye. "As if it needs to be public record for me to find it."

Shizuo rolled his eyes. "Of course. So if you know the layout, where are we right now?"

"This floor is restricted access," Izaya said, looking around and appearing to attempt to get his bearings. "We are probably in a research storage room. Look, the paraphernalia would confirm that."

"Is this the floor where the virus would be kept?" Shizuo asked, feeling his skin crawl.

Izaya shook his head. "No. That's the floor right below us."

"Then why's this one restricted?" Shizuo asked.

"I have my suspicions," Izaya replied, and he moved away from the hole in the ceiling to the door. "Would you drag those huge racks over here? Just in case any infected get in, it would help slow them down."

The request wasn't just sensible, it was also polite. _Yeah, the world's definitely ending._ As Shizuo complied, he noticed there were an awful lot of medical supplies in this room. _Weird thing for a research facility to have in stock._

Once he felt the door was sufficiently blocked and closed, he took the lead in the hall. The corridor very much reminded him of a prison block. Long and narrow, the doors on either side were numbered and had only one small rectangle of glass.

"Is this what I think it is?" he demanded, throat suddenly dry.

Izaya peered through the tiny window of one door. If possible, he went even paler as he nodded and backed up so Shizuo could look. The blonde swept his flashlight inside the room.

One cot, one toilet attached to the wall. A broken light on the ceiling. No windows, no signs of comfort anywhere. On the floor beside the cot, a bloated corpse with diseased-purple skin rotted. Shizuo spun away, sucking in a deep breath.

"Goddamn it. I thought this couldn't get any more fucked up. Were these bastards actually experimenting on humans?"

Izaya, who had leaned against the wall again, let his head fall back against it with a soft thump. "I suspected, but I didn't know for sure. After all, I couldn't imagine the employees here volunteered to become monsters."

Shizuo blinked a couple times against the burn behind his eyes. "This is so fucked up. Why would they do all this? How many people have they killed? How many more will still die?"

The raven didn't answer for several seconds. Then, "We should keep moving, Shizu-chan." His voice was low and soft.

Making up his mind, Shizuo reached over and grabbed Izaya's wrist to pull him into a brisk walk. "Does this place have showers?"

A faint snort. "Yes. Has the body paint offended your delicate sensibilities too long?"

Body paint. As though they hadn't smeared themselves in the remains of what had once been a person. "Yes," Shizuo said, and he felt not one bit ashamed.

"Me, too." Almost inaudible.

The stairwell at the end of the hall was dark. Here, Shizuo hesitated. Izaya's warning that there may be infected inside the building hadn't left his mind, and visibility here was poor. The need to get Izaya somewhere safe and check his injuries grew only more pressing with time.

There were two options. First, rely on the flashlight to detect any oncoming danger before it reached them. The glaring problem: the range of the flashlight was limited, meaning any infected in the building would see it before Shizuo saw them.

Second, he could turn off the flashlight and rely on his other senses. The glaring problem: there would be no visual gaging of the distance of oncoming danger.

"Turn off your flashlight," he finally decided, holding out his hand for it.

Izaya looked vaguely surprised, but with atypical obedience he handed it over. _Maybe that's why my temper hasn't gotten the better of me,_ he thought as he tucked the tool in the bag. _He's listening to me and doing what I say._ For the first time, he presented his back to his worst enemy.

"Hold onto my shirt and stay as close to me as you can," he ordered.

The raven blinked. "You can't be serious. You mean to walk down there in pitch darkness?"

"Yes," Shizuo said, making a gesture toward his own back. "Do as I say. The flashlights will just give us away."

"How is that any sort of plan?" Izaya demanded. "You don't know the layout of this building."

Whatever else he might have said, Shizuo ended the discussion by turning off his own flashlight. He heard Izaya hiss, and he couldn't help smirking. _You should have argued before you gave me your light,_ he thought smugly. Relying on his keen instincts, he reached for where Izaya's head was.

With pinpoint accuracy, he covered Izaya's mouth with a firm grip. "Don't speak," he murmured, low so his voice wouldn't carry any further than its target. "Hold onto me and stay as close as you can."

Beneath his grip, he felt Izaya nod. Satisfied, he slid his hand down Izaya's neck and shoulder and arm to his hand. He guided it to his own back, felt slim fingers curl into the thin fabric of his shirt. When he started walking, Izaya kept so close their shoulders constantly brushed.

Moving slowly and carefully, Shizuo closed his eyes and kept one hand on the wall to his right. Helpfully, the stairs had a wall rail. Its angle told him when there were still stairs in front of him, and when it leveled off he knew he'd reached the landing.

Neither of them made a sound. Both knew how to move so nary a footfall betrayed them, and in the complete silence Shizuo's ears would detect even a whisper of sound. The stairwell's own nature would amplify any sound, aiding him further.

At the next landing, Izaya's free hand gripped his upper arm and lightly tugged. "The sixth floor is where they conducted research on the virus and stored their samples," he murmured.

Shizuo nodded before realizing Izaya wouldn't see it. "Got it," he answered.

Down they continued. The longer they went without danger finding them, the more Shizuo started to feel a bit silly for this precaution. Still, if the last three days had taught him one thing, it was that being "too" careful was no longer a thing.

"You know," Izaya murmured, "there's a chance the computers won't work even if we restore backup power."

"I know," Shizuo replied.

When they reached the ground floor, Izaya quietly pointed out the basement couldn't be reached from the main stairwell.

"Damn it," the blonde muttered. _Of course it can't be that easy._

"We're not that far from it, though," Izaya went on quietly. "This stairwell opens into a short service hall with the elevators, and then right beyond that is the main foyer. This building _does_ have windows on the ground floor, but since we didn't see any they must have special bulkheads for doors and windows when the building is locked down."

"It's a good bet," Shizuo agreed. "How big is the foyer? And what else is on the ground floor?"

"Some research labs for more . . . vanilla areas of study," Izaya replied. "The foyer isn't enormous, but it's sizeable. When visitors walk in the front door, first thing they see is the front desk. It's a large curved desk, and to the left and back a way is the check-in station for staff. This is an arch that reads their ID badges and scans them for concealed weapons or anything not allowed in the facility.

"To the right of the desk," Izaya continued, "there's a wide corridor with offices and the maintenance hall. Down the maintenance hall is the stairway to the basement. That door has the lowest-level access, since there's nothing dangerous down there."

Shizuo nodded to himself, picturing as best he could. "Is there anything in the foyer that could have been knocked over during a panicked flight from the facility?"

"Mm, yes," Izaya replied. "Potted plants, anything that might have been on the reception desk, and anything fleeing staff might have dropped. Also, there could be dead bodies."

Sighing faintly, Shizuo weighed the pros and cons of using flashlights to cross the foyer. It did seem unlikely there were infected in the building, but he was unwilling to gamble his life on the odds. Then, so softly he didn't notice it right away, he realized he could hear Izaya breathing.

It sounded labored. "Are you all right?" he asked.

A faint thump told him Izaya had leaned against the wall. "I'm just tired, Shizu-chan. I'm tired to the marrow of my bones." A quiet snort. "Aren't you?"

"Yeah," Shizuo confirmed. "But I'm not hurt."

"And neither am I."

"Like hell you're not," Shizuo grunted. "Those sniffers threw you around like a ragdoll, and you're breathing like it's painful. Pretending you're fine will only put us both in danger."

A heavy pause. "Fine. I'm hurt. But I'm more tired than hurt. And we can argue about this more when we find the generator and have light. I'm tired of clinging to you in the dark."

Those words fell between them strangely. Shizuo couldn't quite figure out why they left him feeling unsettled. "As soon as I get the door open," he said, brushing the feeling aside, "we'll turn on the flashlights. You know where the maintenance hall is, you lead. I'll make sure nothing sneaks up behind us."

A frigid hand gripped his wrist, and Shizuo dug out one of the two flashlights. When Izaya took it, he put both his hands against the door and tested for a handle. When he found it, he gingerly twisted to check that it was magically unlocked.

And magically, it was.

"Huh. Didn't expect it to be so easy."

A breath of a laugh. "They're electronic locks, remember?"

Shizuo reached behind him, fumbling a little until he found Izaya. Placing his palm on the slender raven's back, he nudged him forward. When Izaya was in front of him, he dug out his own flashlight.

"All right," he murmured. "Quietly, now."

Their lights swept out across the foyer, and it looked exactly as Izaya had described. Right down to the potted plants. They were indeed toppled, soil scattered all over the once-shiny floor. There were no bodies, though, and for that Shizuo was grateful.

Nothing interrupted their trek to the maintenance hall. This door was slightly ajar, and Shizuo felt a stirring of unease.

"If the building was locked down," he said softly, "and the doors are electronic, why is this one open?"

Izaya lowered the flashlight's beam to the handle. "There's blood," he murmured, pointing. "Not a lot."

Grabbing Izaya's shoulder, Shizuo pushed the smaller man back and eased the door open with his foot. "Stay behind me," he ordered, descending into the basement.

This stairway was short. It took all of thirty seconds to reach the bottom, and Shizuo immediately pushed Izaya into the corner as he swept his flashlight around. The basement was an indefensible nightmare. Shelves, racks, pipelines, mesh cages for circuit breakers, there were a million places to hide.

Also a million places from which they could be ambushed.

Izaya's hand landed on his upper arm and squeezed. "There," the raven breathed, pointing. "That's the generator."

He was right; it was huge. Shizuo automatically scanned for a safe area to ensconce Izaya while he got the thing running again. There, only a few meters from the generator, was a small and cluttered office. Though, office was a generous word. It looked more like a glorified janitor's closet. Once more grabbing Izaya's arm, this time he made the raven walk right in front of him.

It was weird, he thought as each of his senses revved up to high alert, how docile Izaya had been through all this. Weird, but good. It allowed Shizuo to focus on what needed to be done and expend very little energy on getting Izaya to do it.

He pushed Izaya into the office-closet, but he did so much gentler than he normally might. "Wait here," he ordered, turning and heading for the generator.

He didn't need to see the raven's face to know he was smirking. Docile or not, he was still Izaya. Damn flea.

As quickly as he could, Shizuo circled the generator to figure out what needed to be done. Fortune continued smiling on him. It was a simple breaker switch, and when he pulled down he was rewarded by an immediate hum.

All around him, emergency lights flickered to life. The illumination wasn't brilliant, but it was more than enough to see by.

"Wow," Izaya said with a huff of laughter. "It feels completely different with lights."

"Don't know if it's better or worse," Shizuo muttered. "Come on, let's get back upstairs and find those showers."

Izaya smiled. "Employee lounges are all on the third floor."

"What about security cameras?" Shizuo asked.

For a moment, Izaya closed his eyes. "There are three booths," he replied, opening them again. "One at the front desk, one on the third floor, one on the sixth."

"Here's hoping they work," Shizuo said, beckoning Izaya come and mentally crossing his fingers their luck would hold.

He should have known better than to tempt fate.


	9. Matters of Trust

Shout out to  **moeza** : You were absolutely right when you pointed out a discrepancy in the story. I edited it, thanks for pointing it out!

**IndRand** : I do believe you're right, that was the doujinshi. I couldn't remember the title!

* * *

 

He thought it was the _plip, plip, plip_ of drops of water falling on the cement floor. Soft, innocuous, unthreatening. As he watched Izaya rise with obvious difficulty, he took the first step toward the smaller man to help him.

He took the second step and registered the sound.

He took the third and thought, _That's annoying._

He took the fourth and realized he hadn't heard it at all when they first came down here.

He took the fifth and saw Izaya's eyes widen and mouth open.

No way on Earth would he have missed the sound when they first came down into the basement. Not with all his senses so frantically tuned to miss nothing.

"Behind—!" Izaya yelped.

Shizuo was already spinning, body and mind preparing to meet whatever attacked. His first automatic impulse was to lunge out of his assailant's way, but less than half a second was all he needed to abandon that notion.

If he moved, whatever it was would hit Izaya instead. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt if Izaya was hit again, his ribs would break. If that happened, they could puncture a lung and the raven would die. So he spun on the balls of his feet and threw himself forward to meet the threat with only a flimsy canvas bag in his hands as protection.

Three things managed to catch him off guard. First, as soon as he turned to meet it the creature skidded to the side and leaped backward. Second, it lacked the dreadful mutations of the sniffers and was no bigger than a shambler.

Third, the only sign of the virus was around the mouth. The lips had completely rotted away, leaving only naked gum and tooth. It was more disturbing than any monsters he'd yet seen.

The creature's eyes restlessly flicked up and down its prey, plainly appraising and sizing up. When those unnervingly clear eyes darted to Izaya, Shizuo took the necessary step to plant himself right between the two. The movement made the infected skitter backward a little.

"Be careful, Shizu-chan," Izaya said quietly. "These infected are much faster and stronger than sniffers."

_Great,_ Shizuo thought, sparing a second to look around for a better weapon than the bag. "It have any hidden mutations?" he asked.

"Yes," came the feared reply. "These creatures can more than triple in size."

"The chair," Shizuo ordered softly, keeping his eyes riveted to the infected.

During this short exchange, the creature didn't move. It just closely watched the two men, fair quivering with the readiness to pounce. As soon as Shizuo heard the chair's wheels scraping to indicate Izaya had rolled it toward him, it made its move.

Lightning fast, the creature sprang forward. Its feet made no sound, but the stripped jaw opened and closed. The faint ticking of its teeth tapping together accounted for the noise Shizuo heard earlier, and for some reason the effect was gruesome.

Without taking his eyes off the infected, Shizuo reached for the chair, grabbed it, and smashed it forward with most of his strength.

The creature nimbly sprang to the side as if gravity barely affected it, and as soon as its feet touched down it launched itself straight up. Bounced upward as if the cement floor were a damn trampoline. The height it achieved would carry it right over Shizuo's head, and it occurred to him who the goddamn monster was targeting.

Izaya.

_Over my dead body!_ With an incoherent snarl, Shizuo whipped the chair up and hurled it. This time he didn't pull his strength, and with nothing but air for purchase the infected couldn't fully avoid the projectile.

While the creature tumbled back to the ground and wasted three precious seconds untangling itself from the chair, Shizuo grabbed the metal piping running along the wall and wrenched a thick portion away. It meant leaving his protective position, a transaction which the infected immediately attempted to utilize.

With fantastic speed, it galloped across the cement floor toward the office-closet.

"Nice try!" Shizuo growled, lunging for the door and slamming the heavy pipe down.

Once again, the creature bounded out of reach, this time pausing between two metal racks. Shizuo could practically see the wheels in its infected brain turning, trying to figure out how to get past a rival predator to its intended prey.

"Izaya," he grated, adrenaline making him feel jittery, "we're going to run for the door. Fast as we can, lock this thing down here."

"No," Izaya immediately denied him. "These infected are monstrously strong, Shizu-chan. Stronger than you. A door won't hold it. And like sniffers, they're seldom alone."

As he finished that sentence, the infected abruptly whirled and bolted out of sight.

"Shit!" Shizuo spat, instantly sprinting after it.

He only got a few paces before a freezing cold hand closed around his wrist and yanked. Seriously, Izaya's skin was _cold_.

"Wait!" Izaya hissed. "You can't take on these kinds on your own, Shizuo. It hasn't even mutated yet."

"You're hurt," Shizuo protested, pushing Izaya back into the office-closet. _I think that's the first time he's ever called me by my actual name._ "I can't protect you and fight at full strength at the same time."

Izaya didn't let go of him, his grip tightening until Shizuo almost winced. "You _can't_ fight these on your own. You'll be killed! These infected are infinitely smarter than the other kinds we've encountered. This requires more than brute force."

Not daring to split his focus for too long, Shizuo turned to scan the basement for the infected while keeping one hand on Izaya.

"Then what's your idea?" he grated.

Izaya didn't reply, and Shizuo risked a glance over his shoulder. Izaya's crimson eyes, glittering faintly in the wan light of the basement, darted every direction. Shizuo recognized the sight of someone taking mental inventory and formulating a plan.

"This isn't the best place to fight," he said after a moment. "I need to get upstairs to the research labs." A brief but heavy pause. "We need to split up."

"No," Shizuo snapped, perfectly confident he could force the issue. "Absolutely not." His head whipped to the side when he heard the soft scuttling of feet.

"There's no other way," Izaya murmured, and since he hadn't yet let go of Shizuo he used his grip to tug the man's arm. "If you leave the basement, the infected will throw the generator switch. But if you keep the thing busy, just long enough for me to get what I need, we might both survive this."

The thought of Izaya being out of his sight, it was almost unbearable. Shizuo couldn't begin to define the scope of the feeling, but it felt a lot like panic. _Anything could happen to him._ Losing the last living person in this nightmarish hell might finally push him over the edge.

"And if there _are_ other infected around like this one?" he demanded. "If I can't take them on alone, you sure as hell can't."

"I don't intend to," Izaya said, and he sounded a little testy. "I only need a few minutes, Shizu-chan. All you have to do is distract the monsters long enough for me to run upstairs and get a few supplies."

There were so many things wrong with that plan. Izaya was injured and moving much more slowly than usual. This type of infected was blinding fast. Separating from Shizuo was exactly what the creature wanted. If the blonde couldn't see Izaya, he couldn't protect him.

"You need to get out of here without being seen," he finally relented. To that end, he charged forward and grabbed one of the metal racks.

A quick heave and it crashed noisily to the ground in front of the office-closet. Hopefully, it would be enough to fool the infected into thinking Shizuo's plan was to keep it out and not provide Izaya good cover to slip to the door upstairs unseen.

"All right, you fucking monster," he yelled out, hefting his pipe, "let's settle this!"

Under normal circumstances, with normal light, the facility's basement probably wouldn't have felt like anything scary. In the middle of apocalypse with weak lighting, it felt like a labyrinth designed to kill him. Every flickering shadow had him tensing in preparation to strike.

_Izaya only has his knives,_ he found himself thinking as he clanged his pipe on the floor. He hadn't been able to bring the hiking staff with him on the climb up. Hopefully, the resourceful bastard would find a new weapon.

Movement out of the corner of his eye, that soft ticking sound, and Shizuo threw himself forward into a roll and regained his feet in less than two seconds. More than enough time to swing his pipe down at the back of his attacker's head.

The damn infected still managed to duck just under the blow. It spun on the balls of its feet and lunged upward with its fingers curled into claws as if to gouge out Shizuo's eyes. He lifted the pipe so the creature's hand slammed into it, instead.

It let out a short, high-pitched sound almost like a whine and darted backward. Shizuo winced; the partially rusted pipe felt rough on his hands. _I better be damn careful,_ he thought, watching the infected closely. _If it cuts my hand right now, I'm a goner._

The creature didn't resume its attack right away, demonstrating that same wariness as before. Its eyes flicked all around while never quite leaving Shizuo, clearly trying to figure out the best way to attack. Shizuo did his best to block the way he'd come as if still trying to protect Izaya.

Then, with no further warning or provocation, the infected mutated.

Four thick leg-like appendages burst from its lower back. Each one ended in wicked claws. The creature's body grew in size, the skin rippling and turning vile bruised purple before his eyes. The canines extended into huge fangs, and the jaw appeared to dislocate and widen grotesquely. In effect, it tripled in size.

All of this took less than three seconds, and the result was an oddly crablike monster too hideous to be anything but a nightmare. From its hanging mouth, it issued a high-pitched cry. The frequency was almost too high to hear, and Shizuo resisted the urge to clap his hands over his ears.

The monster's crab legs bent, and it leaped right over Shizuo's head. Claws scuttled loudly on the concrete floor as it bolted for the office-closet. Shizuo immediately sprinted after it. With more legs now, the creature's speed had only increased. It reached the metal rack blocking the door and hurled it out of the way as if it weighed no more than a cardboard box.

The tiny room, of course, was empty. It took the infected all of five seconds to realize that, and when it did it let out that awful cry again. Whirling, it met Shizuo's eyes.

The blonde gave it a smug grin. "What's the matter?" he sneered. "Did your brunch slip away while I was distracting you? How rude."

The monster lunged, four clawed hands grasping for him. Shizuo ducked into a tight forward roll and slid right under the creature's clawed feet. The infected stomped downward at once, and Shizuo only barely managed to avoid being skewered. He scrambled behind another metal rack and shoved forward with all his strength.

It toppled over. Unfortunately, the infected was much too fast for such a tactic. It sprang out of harm's way, which didn't particularly surprise him. He was, however, more than a little alarmed to notice the creature look toward the door.

"Ah, like hell!" he growled, grabbing the metal rack and wrenching. The support bars tore free with a shriek.

Pipe in one hand, metal bar in the other, Shizuo charged toward the infected before it could find the chance to run upstairs. The monster still tried, but Shizuo was closer to the door. All he had to do was change his trajectory slightly to put himself between the beast and its destination, and he viciously lashed out with both weapons.

The pipe missed, but the bar did not. It clipped the beast across the chest. With that incredible speed, the infected snapped its clawed hands out and grabbed the bar. Shizuo let go just as the monster put its weight into pulling.

Overbalanced, the beast flailed backward. Sadly, with four feet now instead of two, that didn't gain Shizuo more than about half a second as he struck out again with the pipe. The monster danced backward just out of reach and sprang upward to drive down with all clawed appendages.

It was close. So close. Were Shizuo any other human being, he would have been gored. As it was, he still heard the fabric of his shirt rip as he once more rolled out of the way. Leaving the path to the door open. The monster seized upon its chance.

Shizuo had never moved faster in his life. Ignoring muscles that had begun to burn from exhaustion and exertion, he grabbed the metal bar and sprinted to the monster's back. Adrenaline amped up his already-impressive strength as he wielded his makeshift weapon like a lance.

Momentum and his own strength pierced the bar right through the creature's back and impaled it. The force of his blow threw the monster into the door, slamming it shut with a loud bang. Not about to believe he'd succeeded in killing it, Shizuo jerked the bar sideways to hurl the infected away from the door.

Clawed feet scraped loudly on concrete as the creature scrabbled for and gained purchase. Slowly, it rose to its full height. Shizuo had a split second to appreciate that he'd _finally_ diverted the monster's attention away from Izaya before it was on him.

The attack descended like a freight train. Shizuo only had enough time to bring his pipe to bear before he was flying backward, all the air knocked from his lungs. Pain burst through his abdomen, and he distantly thought, _I'm gonna have one hell of a bruise._

He immediately rolled to avoid the second attack, desperately scrambling to regain his feet. If this thing succeeded in keeping him on the defensive, he would die. One more rapid somersault and he bolted forward a dozen paces before pivoting sharply and whipping the pipe up.

The monster had to jump aside to avoid being struck in its dislocated jaw. With a little distance, Shizuo sized up the damage. The creature was impaled almost dead center of the chest, and it didn't appear to have had much effect.

_Goddamn infected being fucking difficult to kill,_ he thought, taking the offensive before the monster could decide to renew its attack.

But the beast didn't evade this time. It charged straight toward the oncoming man. This thing learned fast, so Shizuo didn't press his luck by trying to slide under the creature again. Wishing his pipe segment was longer, he changed the angle of his dash enough to vault up onto the tubular ducts running all over the basement floor.

The surface wasn't hot, which it wouldn't be with no power for three days. He wondered if the ducts were for waste or water transfer, but it was only vague curiosity as he hurled his pipe segment at the infected. Without waiting to see if it struck its target or not, he jumped down off the duct on the opposite side and squeezed under it.

It was a tight fit, and Shizuo made sure to position himself out of reach. The infected hit the ground and stopped, obviously looking for its quarry. Quietly as he could, Shizuo crawled out the other side and quickly clambered up the next section of duct. It was impossible to make no noise, but he didn't try too hard.

When he reached the top, the infected had already jumped up, and Shizuo quickly cast about for what he needed. There, a square of glass for observation only half a meter in length and width. He stomped down on it as hard as he could, once. Twice.

The infected whipped around and lunged across the short distance from one duct to the other, galloping along its surface toward Shizuo. The blonde quickly darted backward. The monster reached the observation glass. Already strained, the cracked glass gave way beneath the creature's heavier weight. One leg plunged down into the duct.

It wouldn't do much more than slow the infected down, but that was all Shizuo needed. While the creature spared a full second to look down to figure out what'd happened, Shizuo grabbed the metal bar still protruding from its chest and wrench sideways as hard as he could.

A sickening snap and _crunch_ followed his effort. With that terrible high-pitched wail, the monster slashed out at him, but Shizuo was already gone. _With those damn extra appendages, breaking one leg probably won't slow it down much,_ he thought, dodging between another row of ducting and looking for a new weapon.

A soft _plip, plip_ alerted him at the last possible second to throw himself sideways. The infected narrowly missed landing on top of him. For a split second, Shizuo thought it'd simply changed back to its former state. A heartbeat later, the second, mutated one landed hard beside it and disabused the blonde of that fantasy.

_Fuck, there are two of them now!_ His mind raced, trying to figure out how to survive this new development.

"Get down, Shizu-chan!"

Without so much as blinking, Shizuo threw himself under the duct. No sooner had he taken cover than a thud followed by a surprisingly loud explosion made his ears ring. Bits of shrapnel and burning flesh scattered on the ground, and Shizuo stared at it in surprise.

_What the hell did you just do, flea?_ Breaking cover, he emerged to find Izaya holding what looked suspiciously like a water balloon, a trussed up aerosol can, and a lighter. The un-mutated infected was desperately attempting to put out the fire rapidly devouring its flesh.

The mutated infected with the broken leg had backed away from Izaya, clearly reevaluating what it'd thought was weaker prey. Shizuo found himself grinning as he sprinted to the raven and skidded to a halt between him and the infected.

"Pipe bomb?" he teased. "What are we, in tenth grade chemistry?"

Izaya snorted. "It worked, didn't it? Sorry it took me so long. I couldn't find a lighter. Are you all right?"

So, so weird to hear an overture of concern. "Fine," Shizuo assured him, watching the remaining infected.

He knew it wouldn't fall for the same trick. These damn things learned fast.

"You need a weapon," Izaya abruptly ordered. "The virus is only acting to put out the fires as an act of self-preservation. The infected don't actually feel pain."

"I need more than a weapon," Shizuo grunted, holding his arm out to the side to push Izaya back. "Plan. Now."

"There's a garbage compactor at the other end of the basement," Izaya said at once.

"Perfect," Shizuo said. "But that'll only work for one of them."

Izaya hefted the water balloon (okay, so he knew it couldn't actually be a water balloon, but that's what it looked like, damn it) and hurled it toward the infected already on fire. His aim was perfect, and the thing burst open to splash its liquid contents on the creature. The flames, which had died down a little, burned back to life.

"There, now there's only one left," Izaya said with a little grin as the other infected scuttled sideways. "That monster won't put a chemical fire out just by rolling on the floor."

The mutated infected, which seemed to be a bit dazzled by the flames and unexpected appearance of the other man, let out that high-pitched shriek and grabbed up its fallen fellow. Startled, Shizuo actually wondered if the monster was going to try to save it. An eye blink later, it hurled the burning and twitching infected right at the pair.

"Shit!" Shizuo spat, shoving Izaya to the side and diving in the opposite direction.

The burning creature hit the ducts and crumpled. It didn't move again. But now Izaya and Shizuo were separated, and the mutated creature had to choose between which quarry to attack now. Unsurprisingly, it chose Izaya.

The raven shocked the hell out of Shizuo by nimbly leaping to his feet and darting between the ducts. "The compactor, Shizu-chan!" he called.

Ignoring the panicky concern that the mutated was targeting the weaker man, Shizuo jumped up and charged to the back end of the basement. Risking a quick glance to the side, he saw Izaya and the infected parallel. Izaya's crimson gaze was fixed forward, jaw set in steely determination.

Shizuo felt a pulse of something he'd never felt before toward the raven. He didn't have a name for it, and he didn't have the time to ponder it out, so he ignored it for now. Angling to the side, he ducked out of sight. They'd only get one chance at this, and if it had any hope of working he needed to make sure they caught the infected by surprise.

The garbage compacter was bigger than one might normally be found in a warehouse or department store. The thing was capable of exerting several tons of pressure, and Shizuo hoped Izaya managed to buy him enough time.

A compacter lowered slowly. Way, way too slowly to actually successfully kill anything as quick as these infected. Shizuo wasted four precious seconds trying to figure out how to make the weighted compacter fall quickly enough, then he sprinted to rip more piping off the wall.

_Here's hoping the monster doesn't question the loud banging sounds,_ he thought as he swung the heavy pipe segment. _No way I can make it quiet._

The support rods were solid metal. Shizuo didn't waste time trying to break them. Instead, he went for the mechanics that made the thing work. When he heard Izaya call for him again, he quickly clambered on top of the compacter and laid down on his belly.

"Jump!" he ordered, heart pounding sickeningly hard when he saw how close the infected was to Izaya.

The raven obeyed, hand stretching out. A heart stopping second where Shizuo grabbed for him and wrenched him upward with all his strength. Izaya tumbled on top of the compacter while the infected sprang up to follow. Izaya aimed a kick at the metal bar still impaling it, and it was just enough to make the creature falter so Shizuo could use his pipe to slam it sideways.

It fell into the compacter and instantly scrambled to its feet. So unbelievably fast, it leaped for the opening between the top of the cage and the weighted compacter. Shizuo was faster. One more heavy blow, the groan of abused metal, and a five-thousand pound slab of solid metal smashed downward.

Shizuo swallowed against the urge puke at the wet sound of organic matter being crushed. Beside him, Izaya let out a dry chuckle.

"Well," he panted, "that went better than I thought it would."

Frowning, Shizuo rose and offered Izaya a hand. "What happened? You were moving a lot slower earlier."

Izaya gave him a smug little grin. "We're in a pharmaceutical research facility. I found some painkillers. Now, shall we go upstairs and shower off?"

"Fine," Shizuo agreed, only letting go of Izaya's hand to move his grip to the man's slender wrist. "But first, the security booth."

He wouldn't be able to relax his guard one iota until he was sure there were no more infected in the building.


	10. Cold and Hot

Shout out to **spectrum:** Thank you for your sweet words!

* * *

Shizuo made him completely strip.

The blonde made an exhaustive search of the entire facility, once they made it to the third floor and discovered the security cameras were indeed working. Izaya waited patiently, perched on the desk beside Shizuo. He'd tried to sit in the booth's other chair, but Shizuo had stopped him.

"Where I can see you," he'd ordered in a terse voice.

Izaya had just sighed and obeyed. While Shizuo watched the cameras and moved them to view every inch of every room they could, he had Izaya go over his knowledge of the facility's layout. And how the raven knew so much about it.

A question to which Izaya couldn't help smirking. "I hacked into the facility's security," he replied. "These cameras stream live, so it was fairly easy to slip in before anyone noticed my digital presence."

Shizuo had just grunted at that, but Izaya thought he sounded amused.

When the explanations were done, Izaya split his focus between the screens and the blonde studying them so raptly. Shizuo radiated tension, and not for the first time Izaya found himself admiring the man's physique. Even covered in gore, he cut an impressive figure.

Then Shizuo finally seemed satisfied. "How much do you know about the security system?" he asked.

"Quite a lot," Izaya replied.

"Are you able to set up some kind of alert?" the blonde inquired. "So an alarm goes off if there's any movement anywhere except where we are?"

Izaya hopped off the desk. "Yes. If you'll let me have the chair, I can do that right now."

For a second, he actually thought Shizuo would refuse, that he would just make the raven sit on his knee. Then he stood and vacated the chair. He didn't move further than that, though, so when Izaya sat down the blonde hovered right over him.

Ah well. Izaya found the man's presence weirdly comforting after all he'd been through. _I really thought I'd have to get to this place by myself,_ he thought. _It's kind of nice to have him here._ While that dizzying revelation chased itself around in his mind, he set the security system to ping an alert if any of the motion detectors were tripped.

"There," he said. "Unless the infected learn how to walk on the ceilings, we'll be alerted long before they reach us."

He'd meant for it to be a joke, but Shizuo spun the chair around to glare at the raven. " _Are_ there any infected who can walk on ceilings?"

Startled, Izaya barked a laugh. "Of course not. They may be mutated beyond recognition, but even they are still bound by gravity, Shizu-chan."

"That's something I've been meaning to ask you," the blonde half growled. "How exactly do you know so much about the infected?"

It wasn't like he hadn't been expecting Shizuo to ask. In fact, Izaya was a little surprised the blonde hadn't asked sooner. "I managed to collect some sensitive information about the virus and its mutations," he said, "when I started digging into Izunia. Remember how I said there were three other outbreaks at IRMS facilities?"

"Yeah."

"Well, in each of those incidents, there were reports of three distinct viral mutations," Izaya said. "The most common, humans whose flesh appears to rot away. Overall they're slow, but they're capable of short bursts of speed. Humans attacked by them have a fifty percent chance of being eaten or infected." He paused for a second and smiled. "You call them shamblers."

"And the second are sniffers," Shizuo said. Not a question.

"Right. Infected who have physical mutations including elongated appendages and bony claws. They have heightened senses of smell and heightened reflexes. Much faster, and humans attacked by them are more likely to be infected than eaten."

"And the third, those bastards down in the basement," Shizuo said.

Izaya nodded. "They can mutate at will, and each one looks slightly different when it does. However, once they've turned they can't turn back. They rarely eat the humans they attack."

"Jumpers," Shizuo said.

In spite of himself, Izaya felt a smile tease his lips. "Your names are so creative."

"They don't need to be," Shizuo said, reaching down and pulling Izaya up. "Showers."

Izaya went, unresistant.

The employee lounges were quite lavish. They included a full kitchen, a gym with various fitness equipment, a steam room, and both regular showers and special disinfecting showers. It was to one of these Shizuo pulled Izaya, keeping the doors open so they could clearly hear the security alarms if they were tripped, and kicked off his shoes.

"Strip."

His tone was firm and hard, leaving no room for argument. Izaya felt a weird urge to giggle. "That's the second time you've given me that order in as many days," he teased. "I'm going to get the wrong idea, Shizu-chan."

A hand perfectly capable of crushing his throat closed around his upper arm and pulled him toward the shower head. "Strip, or I'll do it for you."

His voice had changed, and Izaya felt a strange chill. The command in them wasn't just one that expected to be obeyed, it was also one that knew it would be. Shizuo knew Izaya would strip, because Shizuo had told him to do so.

Izaya stripped.

With each layer of clothing removed, he felt more and more exposed. Not in body, because he'd never been ashamed of that. This was something else. Shizuo's eyes, such a warm color of hazel, amber, and melted honey, raked over every inch of him as Izaya at last shed his briefs and stood before his worst enemy completely naked.

Then Shizuo turned the shower on. Izaya couldn't help it, he yelped. The water was cold, and in seconds it made his skin break out in goosebumps. But Shizuo wasn't done. His hands, large and so warm they almost scalded him, landed on his shoulders and turned him around.

"Put your hands on the wall."

Eyes widening, heart skipping a beat, breath catching in his throat, Izaya stared straight forward in a kind of numb shock. Shizuo was so close he could feel the larger man's heat, and his thoughts ran in frantic circles. _What are you doing? What are you—?_

Unexpected pressure on his chest forced all the air from his lungs in a pained gasp. He automatically twisted to get away, but Shizuo grabbed his hands and placed them back on the wall. He didn't speak, just held Izaya there with that inescapable, inexorable strength.

When he released the raven to probe his ribs again, Izaya stayed where he was. In seconds, his whole body was trembling from the exertion of not crying out under Shizuo's touch, protesting the pain it brought as the man carefully checked each rib.

After what just might have been the longest eternity of Izaya's life, Shizuo let out a soft sigh. "Two cracked, none broken."

Slightly deliriously, Izaya silently thanked the researchers of the facility for stocking morphine. "W-would you let me go, now?" he managed, teeth chattering. "Th-the water's freezing, Shizu-chan."

Strong arms wrapped around him, and Izaya hissed in surprise when Shizuo's body pressed against his back. His clothing was completely soaked, and Izaya pointlessly wondered why the man was trying to shower with his clothes on.

Shizuo's knee abruptly pushed between his thighs and nudged sideways. It upset Izaya's balance, and he would have fallen were he not already wrapped up in Shizuo's arms. As it was, he couldn't find any purchase to resist as Shizuo spun them around and slid to the ground. He bent his knee up and out, and because it was still between Izaya's legs it spread him wide open.

"What are you doing!" Izaya gasped. It didn't sound nearly as waspish as he would've liked.

Shizuo's mouth landed on his neck, right at the junction with his shoulder. It felt hot compared to the cold water. He sucked and bit until it hurt, one hand gliding across Izaya's chest to roll his nipple under a thumb. When he pinched, Izaya yelped and bucked up, but he couldn't quite seem to find the strength to escape. His body felt weirdly numb.

And it betrayed him again when a stirring of arousal flushed through his veins. _What the—? What is this?_ Shizuo's mouth lifted off his neck to fasten his teeth on Izaya's earlobe.

"I can't believe we survived," the blonde muttered.

Izaya blinked. _Oh._ His pulse started to slow, breathing even. "Me, neither," he murmured, finding himself staring at the ceiling. The water was still cold, but knowing it was washing away the grime and gore felt good.

He continued to stare at the ceiling as Shizuo's hand slipped lower and roughly cupped him. He sucked in a quick breath at the immediate answering of heat between his thighs and didn't examine that too closely. Neither did he protest the other hand gripping under his knee and spreading his legs even farther apart.

His brain disconnected from his body. That was the only way he could define it. His mind went completely silent, and without thought the only thing left was feeling.

There was a brief and awkward scramble of movement as Shizuo wriggled out of the soiled clothing, and Izaya was grateful. Then one hand reached to turn the disinfect cycle to plain water while the other nestled back between his legs and pressed two fingers against his anus. With no further warning, they pushed in—their strength easily overcoming the resistance of muscle.

Izaya's head snapped back, falling to rest on Shizuo's shoulder with a faint gasp. It hurt. He'd never been touched there, and it was a sudden entry. But the pain wasn't sharp but rather an ache, and it felt strangely good as it started a slow burn.

Perhaps, he thought hazily, it was a reminder he was still—gloriously—alive.

With no finesse whatsoever, those fingers drove into him and pulled back out. The drag on his sensitive insides was nearly unbearable, especially with nothing to slick their passage. Forcing himself to relax, he pushed out with those muscles the next time Shizuo pushed in, and that helped.

It helped more when Shizuo's free hand pressed down on his belly and then cupped him. He was a little surprised to realize he'd hardened a little, and when that calloused hand squeezed and massaged, he reached full arousal quickly. When the first drop of precum beaded, Shizuo pressed his thumb into the tip and dragged it around in small circles.

Helpessly, Izaya's hips bucked upward. As he did, Shizuo thrust his fingers deeper into Izaya and added a third way before he felt ready for it. The confusing contrast between pleasure from the front and pain from the back had him panting and not quite sure if he wanted more or wanted to get away.

For long moments, Shizuo focused his ministrations on the head of Izaya's arousal. His fingers didn't thrust into Izaya so much as grind, pressing against his inner walls as if to convince his muscles to completely relax. It felt strange, not quite good and not quite painful. Shizuo twisted his wrist, and the drag against his sensitive entrance had Izaya arching up.

Shizuo followed him, and his fingers shifted enough to brush Izaya's prostate.

 _There!_ Another helpless gasp fell from his lips, and he flopped back against Shizuo. He was beginning to feel boneless. And now that he'd found Izaya's prostate, Shizuo ruthlessly attacked it. The sensation was completely new and different, causing his nerves to jump and his erection to weep. By itself, he thought it wouldn't feel amazing. But coupled with the eroticism and pleasure from Shizuo's other hand, it was more than enough to melt the pain into a distant ache.

It was also enough to tease an unexpected orgasm from his exhausted body. The pleasure built upon itself until he couldn't breathe properly, and his chest began to twinge in protest. But it wasn't what sent him tumbling over the edge. Shizuo's mouth landed on his ear, lightly nipping before he said, low and clear,

"Come." Absolute command.

Orgasm burst over him with startling intensity, squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his teeth around waves of pleasure. Shizuo's hand kept squeezing around the base of his erection and dragging upward as if milking him, and he could feel his anus and inner walls clenching erratically around the fingers still inside him.

As he slowly came down from the high, he felt Shizuo remove his fingers and smear them around in Izaya's release. He coated them quickly before pushing them back inside Izaya before the water could wash it away.

 _Shit,_ Izaya thought, jaw clenching as the man firmly rubbed his prostate. It sent after shocks of pleasure sparking along his nerves, and it was almost too much. Then strong hands and arms were rearranging him, lifting him up, and Izaya braced his hands on Shizuo's knees to help.

Thick, hot, and hard, Shizuo slid into him in one long glide. Gravity helped pull Izaya flush with Shizuo's hips, and he almost blacked out. It was that intense. It hurt, but in a different way than his chest. _I'm the second thing Shizu-chan's impaled today,_ the ridiculous thought fluttered through his mind.

He could feel his anus weakly fluttering around Shizuo's girth, and under normal circumstances he thought it would've been immensely embarrassing. He found himself grateful he'd already come. His muscles were more relaxed.

He didn't quite feel ready for it when Shizuo began to move. Since he couldn't stop it, he focused on breathing and just held on.

In. Tight resistance from muscle seemingly intent on keeping Shizuo from breaching him. Out. A rough drag on sensitive flesh, making it clench as if trying to keep Shizuo from leaving him. Up, grinding hard against his prostate, down, stretching his anus wide open to accommodate.

It was starting to feel kind of good again. He thought it would feel even better if Shizuo would focus a little more on his partner's pleasure, but he was too tired to voice this or try to make it feel better himself. In fact, he was too tired to tighten up at all, and he could feel his inner muscles going soft.

That eased Shizuo's glide, and it seemed to be the cue he'd been waiting for. The blonde changed his position, planting his feet to give himself better leverage to thrust up with more vigor. His free hand once more cupped between Izaya's thighs, and the raven's eyes widened when he felt himself harden a little. Pleasure once more worked up heat in his veins.

"Come," Shizuo breathed in his ear. "One more time."

Izaya passed out instead.


	11. Student of Human Nature

When he opened his eyes, it was hard to breathe. It might've been what woke him, and he stared blankly at the ceiling for what felt like a long time. He couldn't remember falling asleep, so he couldn't quite figure out what was going on.

_Am I on a bed?_ He was warm, warmer than he could remember being for at least a couple days, and the surface beneath him felt reasonably comfortable. Presently, he decided it was far too dangerous to just lay around when he didn't know where he was. What if an infected attacked him?

Turning his head, he blinked to see Shizuo right beside him. The blonde was seated in a chair, feet propped up on another chair, chin tilted down to his chest, eyes closed. Izaya blinked. _He's asleep?_ His own sense of alarm dwindled exponentially. _If he's asleep, we're probably fairly safe._

Finally, his brain caught up with his current circumstances. _We reached the facility._ The climb into the building, the journey to the basement, the fight with those dreadful 'jumpers', and making it to the employee lounge.

And what had happened then.

Slowly, Izaya lifted a hand to his chest. His ribs were tightly bound in clean bandages. He had no memory of that, and he found himself wondering why Shizuo was taking such good care of him. Sitting up took a little effort, but he managed. He was on a couch, which explained the comfort.

Shizuo's eyes flew open, head whipping toward the door. A second later he relaxed, and his amber-hazel eyes flicked to Izaya. He uncoiled, dropping his feet to the floor and rising. "You only slept for five hours."

It sounded like an invitation to sleep more. A tempting one. Izaya shook his head. "Maybe after we find what we came for."

Shizuo nodded, offering a hand. "Are you sore?"

Izaya instantly grinned. "Where do you mean, Shizu-chan? My ribs? Or more intimate places? Like my ass, which you so thoroughly fucked?"

The blonde gave him a flat look. "Yes."

Rather disappointed by that non-reaction, Izaya waved the hand away. "I'm very sore. Seriously, being so rough with an injured man. You really are an animal, Shizu-chan."

Shizuo gave him a strange look, one Izaya couldn't define for several seconds. Then he half smirked. _I didn't call him a monster. You're an idiot, Shizuo._ The smirk grew a bit. _Clearly, s_ _o am I._

"What?" Shizuo demanded, frowning.

"Nothing," Izaya chirped, climbing to his feet. "Is there food around here? I'm starving, and I would really like something more than a protein bar."

Shizuo rolled his eyes. "We'll stop by a four-star restaurant on our way out."

Izaya grinned. "Taking me on a date after you fuck me? Your process is backward. If I were a lady, I'd be horribly offended."

"Good thing you're not a lady," Shizuo quipped, grabbing Izaya's wrist and tugging him out of the sitting room toward the kitchen. "I gave you an antibiotic, you need to eat."

He really, really didn't know how to feel about being completely unconscious while Shizuo bound his ribs and gave him medication. Given what they'd done just before that, it felt a little ridiculous to worry over it.

_He sure is calm. He's acting like nothing happened._ Frankly, it was a little boring. It would've been fun to see a flustered Shizuo. _Maybe I can change that._

"I passed out before we got to the end," he commented. "Did you cum inside me, Shizu-chan?"

The blonde didn't so much as twitch. "Yes. Don't worry, I cleaned you out afterward."

To his utter horror, Izaya felt heat creep up his cheeks. He knew his eyes widened a little before he could school his expression, and he was desperately grateful Shizuo had his back to the raven. _What the hell! I was supposed to bother him, not the other way around!_

Recovering with a chuckle, he tugged his wrist so Shizuo looked back at him. "I wouldn't have expected you to take such care with me, given our history."

Shizuo's expression didn't change much. "I want you to be wide awake if I kill you."

It was the first time he said _if_ , and Izaya didn't care for it. When Shizuo released him and gestured to a chair, he sat and heaved a theatrical sigh. "You're a terrible person, Shizu-chan."

A faint breath of sound, like a huff of laughter. "Yeah." The blonde consulted the cabinets.

Leaning his elbows on the table, Izaya watched him. "Are you really okay to lower your guard around me so much?"

Shizuo didn't even look at him. "As if you're some kind of threat to me like that?"

Izaya pouted. "You've been a jerk ever since we stumbled across each other, you know that? You could at least pretend to comfort me. I'm in a delicate state right now, Shizu-chan."

That made the blonde turn to glance at him, and he smiled. "Somehow, I doubt that."

Izaya stared at him as the blonde kept rummaging for something to eat. _What the hell was that? I've never seen him smile like that before._ It was soft and a little warm, making his whole countenance gentle. With a rueful grin, Izaya buried his face in his hand. _The world is definitely ending._

"Was that a compliment?" he muttered.

"You're a strong bastard, I'll give you that," Shizuo said, sounding distracted. "Not many could've come away from being attacked by infected zombies with only two cracked ribs."

Izaya straightened. "I'm amazing. That's never been in question."

A flat silence followed his comment, and Izaya felt a sense of discontentment settle over him. This pensive, calm Shizuo was a stranger. He didn't know how to deal with it. Without the temper, the explosive rage, the completely unreasonable attitude, Shizuo was . . .

Too human. As he tried to decide what to say next, the blonde set a couple cups of instant ramen on the counter.

"It's not gourmet," he said, "but it's filling."

Izaya bent one leg up to rest his ankle on the opposite knee. "Try not to spoil me so much, Shizu-chan. It's embarrassing."

The man half turned to give him a sideways glance. A corner of his mouth quirked up in a crooked grin. "Stop talking."

There it was again. That _tone_ , commanding and powerful without being loud or forceful. Izaya couldn't recall ever hearing Shizuo use it. In fact, he wasn't sure he'd ever heard anyone use it, and certainly no one on Earth had ever made him want to obey such a tone before.

"You know," he said, folding his arms and tapping a finger against his lips, "just because you say it doesn't mean I'll do it."

Another soft snort. "I know. Chicken or shrimp? There's one of each."

_Ugh, what a weird atmosphere._ "Which one do you want?"

"Chicken."

"Then that's the one I'll have."

The blonde shook his head as he fetched a pot and poured some water into it. He turned on the stove burner and put the water to boil. "Where do we need to go to find computers?"

"Sixth floor," Izaya replied. "Do you remember seeing the refrigerated storage cases in the cameras? The doors were all smashed out. There's a chance there are still samples up there, so we'll have to be extremely careful."

Shizuo grimaced. "Yeah. You're sure we can't be infected by breathing it in?"

Izaya smirked, perfectly happy to capitalize on any opportunity to give the man a hard time. "It's not airborne. I believe we already went over this. As long as you don't stick your finger in it and lick it, we'll be just fine. Really, Shizu-chan. Try to keep up."

The blonde gave him a mild glare as he poured boiling water into the ramen cups. "What is it you hope to find, anyway?"

Izaya shrugged one shoulder. "Hopefully, some clue as to what IRMS is after."

"Thought we already knew that."

"I only have some of the pieces," Izaya said. "I still can't see the whole puzzle."

"And if you figure everything out?" Shizuo demanded. "What then? You'll be satisfied with that?"

"Hardly," Izaya replied. "I'll figure out some way to stop it."

"Yeah?" Shizuo said, raising an eyebrow at him. "I'm supposed to believe that? Orihara Izaya trying to _help_?"

"I've decided I don't care what you believe."

Shizuo rolled his eyes, and his expression was infuriating. An adult looking down on a kid being particularly childish. "Yeah, yeah. Once we get the info we're after, what then?"

Izaya rubbed a hand over his face. _Question of the century, right there._ "There's a blockade on the east side of Tokyo," he said. "The military mobilized to keep the infected inside the city until they could figure out a more lasting solution. We'll head there first. Then you can do whatever you want to do. I'm sure you probably want to find your family, right?"

The blonde paused in his ramen-making, and Izaya saw tension radiate across his broad shoulders. "Yeah. I've been trying not to imagine the 'what ifs'."

"Ugh, don't get sappy on me," Izaya said before the man could go on. "I don't want to hear you waxing piteous."

Shizuo set the cup ramen down in front of him. "Fortunately, I have more self-preservation than to get personal with you."

Izaya's lips quirked. "Maybe you're not as dumb as I've always assumed." He stirred the soaking noodles. "I changed my mind. I want the shrimp after all."

Heaving a sigh that sounded quite put-upon, Shizuo pushed the shrimp toward him and took the chicken. "You're impossible."

"It would be so boring if I weren't," Izaya teased.

Shizuo shook his head. "How do you know about the blockade?"

"I had a few last communications with my military contacts before all power was lost to the city," Izaya replied. The ramen tasted good, and normally he didn't even like ramen. Then he blinked. "Did you sleep, too, Shizu-chan?"

"Yes. Not quite as much as you, but four hours will tide me over."

Izaya wanted to demand for how long, but he didn't. They finished the ramen, both answered a call of nature, and then Shizuo decided it was time to go.

"Stairs," he said. "If the elevator stops working, there won't be anyone to fix it and get us out."

His chest was still sore, so Izaya didn't relish the thought of climbing up three flights of stairs. He did feel a bit better than before, though. As he gingerly followed Shizuo and started ascending the stairs, he grimaced as a foreign sensation finally demanded his attention.

_It feels like his dick is still inside me._ He wondered what had possessed him to allow Shizuo to do that to him. True, he couldn't have offered much resistance if Shizuo decided to force the issue. _I didn't even try. I just let him._

Never, not once had he allowed anyone to exert that kind of control. No man had ever fucked him, because that required more trust than he was capable of giving. And irony of ironies, the first man to fuck him was someone he'd thought himself incapable of trusting.

_Maybe not. Who could guess sex could turn into something so complicated._ He found himself smirking. _I_ _wonder if he did that just because the relief of surviving got the better of him._ People did strange things to feel alive. No one knew that better than the world's number one student of human nature.

_I mean, that's why I let him. Probably._ His smirk twisted. Introspection wasn't like him. He spent his significant mental power on picking apart the inner workings of others, not himself.

"If they stop the virus," he asked, "and put Tokyo back together, will you still want to live in Ikebukuro?"

Shizuo, who hadn't once let go of Izaya, shrugged one shoulder. "Guess it depends."

He didn't elaborate, but Izaya had a feeling he knew on what it would depend. _Whether your loved ones survived or not. Such a sentimental man._

The sixth floor was as quiet as the third when Shizuo pushed the door open. That didn't keep the man from proceeding with caution, keeping Izaya firmly behind him. In a moment like this, it would be so easy to plant a dagger right between his shoulder blades and end his life.

So why had such an endeavor never felt more difficult than right this second?


	12. Body and Mind

At his back, Izaya's silence felt strained and heavy. For the life of him, Shizuo couldn't remember ever feeling so aware of someone. The smaller man's breathing was lighter than just hours ago before his short sleep, but it still wasn't easy.

He needed more rest than just a nap. They both did.

_I'm sure you probably want to find your family,_ Izaya had said. Thinking only about his immediate needs and surroundings had kept him focused and sane during this nightmare. Wondering if those he loved had survived was a distraction he couldn't afford. He'd kept his resolve until Izaya had asked about the nebulous future.

Were Tom and his brother okay? What about Shinra, Celty, and Simon? The plethora of others in the city he'd come to care for? He didn't realize he'd tightened his grip until Izaya made a soft sound of distress.

_Of everyone I could be stuck with, it had to be him. The one person I care about least. The one person I worry about least._ If it'd been Kasuka, his worry and fear for his brother would have paralyzed him. It was a strange realization.

His thoughts strayed to the subject he'd been more or less trying to avoid. He still couldn't quite figure out why he'd done that. Why he'd allowed his quiet desperation push him to stop thinking and act purely on relief. Powerful, mind-numbing relief that he was okay, that Izaya was okay, and he didn't have to face this ongoing nightmare alone. To follow his basest impulse for _contact_.

He had a feeling Izaya would have an answer for the question of _why_. He'd probably deliver it with a smug smirk. Just the thought was too infuriating to explore. He could chalk it up to acting on impulse and leave it at that.

That didn't fully explain why he felt so calm afterward, why he wasn't disgusted by the fact that he'd had sex with his hated enemy. In fact, he felt only a vague regret that he hadn't been able to see Izaya's face. That bothered him way more than the act itself.

"There," Izaya said, voice pitched low, pointing to an electronically sealed door.

Shizuo frowned. "The generator will have made the locks kick back in."

With an enigmatic smile, Izaya slipped past him and waved a key card in front of the lock. A beep, a brief pause, then the lighted panel turned green and the lock clicked. Shizuo blinked.

"The hell?"

"Did you think I wouldn't be prepared for any contingency?" he said in a light tone. Teasing, but lacking the usual sarcastic bite.

Shizuo watched the slender raven walk into the sealed room, following closely. An image of the man's naked back suddenly popped into his mind. If people's personalities were opposite their looks, Izaya was the poster child.

He didn't realize Izaya had stopped walking until he looked up to find the raven giving him a smirk. "Thinking about bending me over the desk, Shizu-chan?"

"Thinking about breaking your neck," Shizuo offered, but the words lacked conviction.

In fact, Shizuo hadn't felt even the slightest urge to kill the damn flea in at least twelve hours. What the hell.

Izaya laughed. Soft, bright, sweet. There was something oddly innocent about it, and that was another thing Shizuo had often thought disconcerting. No one could look completely guileless like Izaya. It shouldn't be allowed.

"Only thinking about it? One of us is losing our touch."

Shizuo opted not to respond. It felt too dangerous. "Look for what you wanted, but be quick about it."

The room they'd entered was a large lab. There were several refrigerated cabinets for storing samples, tables and benches, and on the far end a computer station with eight machines. There was all manner of equipment, but Izaya bypassed it all for the computers.

Shizuo spent a minute looking through the cabinets. Everything was labeled, but he couldn't read the shorthand. The lab also had an attached office, and there were two big filing cabinets. Curious, he tested one. Locked. A short jerk on the drawer and the lock snapped like a twig.

Personnel files, medical research notes, and some company policies and guidelines on various protocols. Nothing about viruses, human experimentation, or anything incriminating. Not that he'd expected to find anything like that. He yanked open the other one.

This one was mostly empty of files, but it had plenty of file folders. _Emptied in a hurry?_ He shuffled through what was left, and the last one caught his eye. Pulling it out, he flipped it open. A short file on an individual, consisting of two pages and one photo paper-clipped to the brief bio.

_Orihara Izaya. Occupation: Information broker. Threat level: five._

Startled, Shizuo skimmed the bio. It didn't include much, only that Izaya was known to live in Shinjuku but not his address. It had a few known associates, including Haruya Shiki and Kishitani Shinra.

But the memo was what held his attention. It was addressed to "Maki", and the _from_ line was blank. The subject line read, _Investigation of Orihara_.

_"Maki, I've spoken with Red Group, and they agree with your concern. You've been given the go-ahead to contact Orihara. Use all precaution not to spark any suspicion. By all accounts, he's exceedingly proficient at his job, and no tidbit of information is too small_ _to pique his interest. Keep him busy with another investigation."_

Shizuo read it a couple times. "Huh. Damn flea wasn't lying."

He wondered how these people even had Izaya's name. Dropping the thin file on the desk, he padded back out into the lab. The raven had abandoned the computers, and Shizuo was glad to see the surveillance cameras up on two of the huge monitors. A third monitor was thinking about whatever Izaya had asked the computer to do.

Himself, the informant was poking through the refrigerated cabinets. When Shizuo came to his side, the raven gave him an irritated sigh.

"I was hoping things would be in better condition," he admitted in a sour tone. "There's practically nothing here. I guess it would be too miraculous to find some tie to IRMS."

"None of these samples contain the virus?" Shizuo asked pointlessly. How would Izaya even know?

The raven shook his head. "I doubt it. They would have taken all sensitive info with them when they fled the facility. And anyway, we have no way of safely transporting such fragile cargo."

"Do we know the employees got out alive?" Shizuo asked.

Izaya sighed again, his countenance darkening. "I guess we don't. They could have been sacrificed, too."

It was weirdly comforting, seeing Izaya disturbed by this. _I guess even he has his limits._

Izaya walked back over to the computer station and leaned against the desk. "Did you really keep fucking me after I passed out?"

Shizuo couldn't help it. He started chuckling. It was such an off-the-wall question, delivered so casually, that in their current circumstances it felt completely absurd. "No, idiot. I just wanted to see your face if you thought I did."

That earned him quite an icy glare. Then it abruptly mellowed into something almost contemplative. "Huh."

"What?" Shizuo demanded a bit cautiously.

Izaya shrugged one shoulder. Lazy. The corner of his mouth quirked. "That's something _I_ would do. Two days alone with me at the end of the world and you develop a sadistic streak."

The mocking slant of his mouth really, _really_ made Shizuo want to bite it away. Biting someone on the mouth could be construed as kissing, so he didn't. "You bring out the worst in me," he said instead.

Izaya grinned, coming to his side and leaning against him. "Worst, Shizu-chan? I think you mean _best_."

"You have an idiotic definition of that word," Shizuo replied, wondering just what the hell was wrong with him. Izaya was standing close. _Way_ too close. So close he could smell the soft scent coming off the raven.

The same smell as always. The smell Shizuo had always loudly protested to hate. It agitated him. Yet, for some reason, at this exact moment, he didn't hate it at all. It was soothing. Familiar. _Pleasant._ A weird ache started somewhere under his skin.

_Maybe,_ the thought rose unbidden from the deepest recesses of his mind, _I only hate it because I like it too much._

He shuddered, and to prevent Izaya from feeling it he buried his fingers in the raven's hair at the base of his neck. Gripping probably too tightly to be comfortable, he forced the raven's head back so he could gaze down into crimson eyes.

"I thought I told you to hurry up," he said, voice calm and not harsh at all.

Izaya, who had winced at the initial contact, seemed to melt against him. "You're being a real beast, you know that? Can't you be gentle with me, Shizu-chan? I'm _injured_."

Not releasing him, Shizuo canted his head to the side as if considering. "Oh, is that what you wanted? For me to treat you gently, like I would a woman?"

He meant for the words to be insulting. He should've known better than to use such a tactic against this bastard. Izaya gave him another all-too-sweet smile.

"Would you? Are you even capable of that, Shizu-chan? If you held someone fragile in your hands, you'd break her like spun glass."

It sounded like a challenge. Irked, Shizuo tightened his grip further and yanked Izaya's head back even further to expose his throat. He swooped in and latched on with his teeth as though intending to bite down. The second he felt the slender raven tense, he closed his lips to brush the softest of kisses over pale skin.

"I'm capable of it," he murmured, lips gliding upward to a narrow jaw. "With you, I choose not to."

_What the hell's wrong with me? What am I even doing?_ His lips curved to the corner of Izaya's mouth, and he fastened his teeth onto a plump lower lip to gently nip. That got a faint sound out of the raven, one Shizuo couldn't quite define.

Then they were kissing, and somewhere along the way his tongue introduced itself to Izaya's and wrapped around it. His mind politely demanded an explanation for the behavior of his body, and Shizuo couldn't quite seem to find the focus to offer one.

His free hand cupped Izaya's jaw to force his mouth open wider. He nibbled and sucked on Izaya's tongue, tasting the saltiness of lunch and something else. Something intrinsic to the raven, something different and confusing and—

The lights flickered.

Shizuo broke the kiss, head whipping around to stare at the surveillance monitors. Nothing stirred, and he realized he'd pressed Izaya close against him in a protective hold. After several seconds of his heart racing, he slowly eased his hold.

Izaya laughed quietly. "Do you think we'll ever be able to relax again?" he said, voice low. "If we survive this?"

Shizuo's lips quirked. "Probably not." It took surprising effort, to unwind his embrace to let Izaya go.

The raven returned to the computers, continuing his searching. "That's a really unfair tactic, you know. Attacking me when I lower my guard."

Tactic. As if Shizuo had played some kind of joke and not just . . .

_Lost my fucking mind,_ his brain helpfully supplied. Shizuo found himself grinning again, and he was glad Izaya's back was to him.


	13. Moving Forward, Falling Back

They returned to the employee lounge to sleep. Shizuo led the way back downstairs after Izaya convinced him there was nothing else to be gleaned from the sixth-floor lab. He stayed close to the taller man without prompting, his lips tingling and warm with the taste of the blonde's still pressed against them.

The last five hours felt like a weird dream. A viral outbreak shutting down an entire city? Sure, no problem accepting that as his reality. Shizuo fucking him in the shower in the middle of said viral outbreak? Unfathomable. Just the thought of it made him want to giggle, but he was afraid of turning hysterical so didn't.

"Get some more sleep," Shizuo ordered him when they reached their destination.

His tone of voice lately was odd. Izaya could almost call it mellow. The edge of tension and hatred was gone, replaced by something he had a hard time naming. Commanding rather than demanding, gentle rather than hard. Weird.

"What about you?" Izaya asked as he rather gracelessly folded himself down onto the couch.

"I want to keep watch for a while," the blonde said, lowering down into the chair he'd been in when Izaya first woke.

Izaya wanted to ask, _"On what?"_ but he was kind of afraid of the answer so he kept silent. And while he'd thought it would be impossible to intentionally sleep with Shizuo sitting awake too close for comfort, his own exhaustion betrayed him.

He woke at some later point with no idea how much time had elapsed, and he felt like his head had been stuffed with cotton. When his vision cleared a little, he shifted and saw Shizuo in the same chair, watching him. As soon as their eyes met, Shizuo uncoiled and rose to his feet. For some reason, the image of a great cat slowly approaching its prey sprang up in his mind's eye.

"I'll check your ribs," the blonde said, "then we should go."

"I'm fine," Izaya said automatically, even as he wondered why he was bothering. He knew what Shizuo's response would be.

"You're not fine. Take off your shirt."

"No foreplay, Shizu-chan?" he teased even as he rose and gingerly removed the shirt. Idly, he wondered who it'd belonged to. Mostly, he was just grateful they'd found extra clothing in the lockers. Wandering around naked in a ruined Tokyo seemed like a bad idea.

Shizuo ignored the snark, not that Izaya had expected a response. This impossible-to-rile Shizuo was actually very boring. If it weren't for certain other new behaviors, Izaya would have mentally committed to abandoning him as soon as they were safe.

Large, warm hands landed on him, one on his back and the other on his chest. Izaya grunted in surprise and discomfort when they applied pressure, but Shizuo eased it a bit. After a few seconds of this, he unwound the bandages. Izaya watched the progress with curiosity, and he wasn't disappointed.

"Wow," he stated.

His skin, normally a pale expanse of flawless ivory, was marred with green and purple bruises from collar bone to belly button. The color reminded him of the infected, with their flesh rotting away. Before he could stop it, a shudder traveled the length of his spine.

Shizuo's hand glided up his neck to gently tangle in ebony hair and lightly tighten. "We'll be all right," he said in a low voice. "I'll get us out of this alive."

Crimson eyes met honey-hazel, and a profound silence settled between them. Izaya found himself studying Shizuo's face, stuck between the urge to lash out in shock or simply let himself be comforted. He did neither. Stepping out of reach, he headed to the medical supplies to extract a roll of fresh bandages.

"I don't need you to comfort me. And it's more likely _I'll_ be the one to get us out of this alive."

He had his back to the blonde so he couldn't see his face, but he still heard a faint snort of amusement. "Maybe. Give that to me."

Before Izaya could decide to obey, Shizuo snatched the roll from his hand and unraveled it. He suffered being wrapped up in silence, and suffer he did. No matter how gentle the other's hands, Izaya's chest was too bruised and tender to be handled. By clenching his jaw he managed to keep all sounds of protest from escaping his throat.

When he was finally done, Shizuo took Izaya's shoulders and turned him around. Then he leaned down and without so much as the slightest hesitation for permission, fused their mouths together. It startled Izaya so much his jaw went slack, allowing Shizuo's tongue to plunge inside without resistance.

The kiss lingered. The one before, Izaya could pass it off as teasing or even Shizuo being an ass. This time, that wet tongue curled around his and sucked, drawing it into Shizuo's own mouth to gently nip, pushing them both back into Izaya's mouth to then drag firmly against the roof of his mouth in a long thrusting motion.

When he finally broke the kiss, a thin band of saliva connected their lips until gravity defeated surface tension and it snapped. Izaya could feel its wetness on his lower lip and chin as he stared up at Shizuo and tried to figure out just what was going on.

His brain stirred and lurched back into motion. A smirk curled his lips as he reached up and dragged the back of his hand over his mouth. "I thought you weren't going to treat me like a woman, and then you kiss me so passionately."

For some reason, annoyance flickered over Shizuo's countenance before disappearing. "Do you know where the blockade is?" he asked, ignoring the comment.

"Yes," Izaya replied, a little nonplussed by this strange behavior. "I'd guess it will take us two days to get there on foot."

Shizuo grimaced. "If not longer," he grunted. "The jumpers. Had you encountered them before we came to this facility?"

Izaya hesitated. "No," he said slowly. "I saw one, though. It jumped on top of a bus filled with terrified people, tore the top off, and in twenty seconds had killed or infected everyone on it."

There was no mistaking the grim horror on Shizuo's face. He half lifted a hand toward Izaya, as if planning to touch him. Then he stopped and let it fall to his side. "How did you survive on your own for two days?"

Izaya shrugged one shoulder. "Stayed out of sight. It helped that I had prior knowledge of the virus. I knew what not to do." A prickle something cold and uncomfortable ran up his spine. "If I'd had more time, maybe I could have . . ." He trailed off and let the sentiment die on his tongue. It didn't matter, because he hadn't had more time and now the calamity had already struck.

"I would have thought," Shizuo said, contemplative and hard, "that this kind of thing would make you happy. You get to see true human nature in disasters, after all."

Izaya stiffened, and it took a great deal of self control to answer without getting defensive. "People losing themselves to a virus and becoming monsters?" he scoffed. "You don't know me at all. I think I'm insulted."

For some reason, Shizuo looked relieved. Was that what it was? Relief? "We can't go outside the way we came in. Is there a back door somewhere?"

Again, Izaya hesitated. "Yes, down in the basement." He knew it was silly, but he really didn't want to go back down there.

Clearly, Shizuo didn't relish the idea, either. He sighed. "Fine. Drink some water, use the toilet if you need to, then let's go."

"Now you're treating me like a kid?" Izaya teased. "I wish you'd make up your mind, Shizu-chan."

"I could treat you like a damn blood-sucking flea and step on you," Shizuo threatened, but like all his recent threats it sounded hollow.

Disappointing. And something else, something Izaya couldn't name. Yet. Soon enough they were on their way back down to the basement. As usual, Shizuo kept Izaya behind him and just this once, Izaya didn't mind.

The basement was just as semi-dark and quiet as when they'd left it. The smell, however, was new. Izaya recoiled before he could stop himself, a movement which Shizuo immediately denied by grabbing his wrist as if to prevent him from fleeing.

"I'm not running away," Izaya snapped, lifting a hand to cover his nose and mouth. "Can't you smell that?"

"Yeah," Shizuo confirmed, relaxing his grip but not releasing the raven. "Come on. Maybe the boiler came on with the generator and heated up, making the corpses rot faster."

Sensible, logical. Izaya resisted the urge to suggest maybe the infected were somehow still alive.

Of course, they weren't. Nothing stopped or impeded them as they made their way through the basement, and they got to the aforementioned back door. A barred security door had closed over it, and Izaya waved his key card to deactivate it.

"This opens onto the street below and a bit to the left of where we climbed in," he told the blonde.

Shizuo gave him a skeptical look. "Why didn't we come in this way in the first place? You have that card."

Izaya reached up and tapped the blonde's forehead. "And without the generator powering the override lock, how would I have opened this from the outside?"

Shizuo just grunted. With great care, he lowered the handle and eased the door open just the barest crack. Izaya could see him bracing his weight just in case they met a struggle on the other side as the blonde leaned an eye around the door to the street beyond.

"Seems to be quiet," he murmured, easing the door open a little wider for a broader range of vision.

Twenty cautious seconds later, during which Izaya didn't interrupt, Shizuo deemed it safe and edged outside. He pulled Izaya out after him just as carefully, and Izaya immediately added his own eyes to the appraisal of their surroundings.

Nothing stirred, and the lack of city noise was intensely unnerving.

"It's so quiet," Izaya said, low and soft. "How come I didn't notice it before?"

Shizuo shrugged his shoulders, but the motion looked strange, as if he was trying to suppress a full-body shudder. "Maybe that hiking stick of yours is where you left it. Come on."

As they rounded the corner of the building, Shizuo taking plenty of time to check for danger, Izaya dared to hope the infected had left the area. With no fresh humans to attack and eat or infect, perhaps they'd all moved on.

 _Not,_ he thought wryly, _that they have enough intelligence to make such a decision. These monsters act purely on instinct._

Shizuo stopped and pointed. "There," he said, turning his head to glance down at Izaya.

His amber-hazel eyes widened. His mouth started to open. His other hand, still loosely curled around Izaya's wrist, tightened and yanked. Reflexes honed from years of fighting had Izaya automatically ducking at that expression; it could only mean one thing.

In retrospect, it probably saved his life. It didn't spare him, though, and the blow reverberated through his entire body when it struck. Strangely, he felt nothing except the impact as he went down. He knew he blacked out, because when he blinked Shizuo was a good ten paces away from him grappling with an infected.

A jumper.

Izaya tried to roll to his side to get his feet under him. An absolutely helpless cry spilled off his lips when he moved. Oh, there was the pain. His whole body cried out at him, demanding to know why he was moving.

Worse still, the sound drew the attention of the jumper. Predator recognizing downed prey. It instantly abandoned Shizuo to gallop toward him with its dreadful, lipless mouth clicking. Heart leaping into his throat, Izaya tried again to get up. Instead, he spat up a mouthful of blood.

 _Great,_ he thought dizzily, _just great. This again._ He suddenly, absurdly, wished he had a shotgun. Or a flamethrower.

The jumper didn't reach him. Shizuo probably broke some world records as he sprinted and leaped onto the monster's back, hands locking around its throat and slamming it down onto the cracked street. He kept slamming, too, his position giving him the needed leverage to hang on while the infected bucked wildly underneath him.

At some point, it stopped bucking. Then it stopped moving altogether, and Izaya felt his stomach turn at the sight of the skull cracked open like a rotten egg with brain spilling out. Chunks of brain. The color and the smell of that was hideously wrong, and Izaya wondered if he would puke.

Then he blinked again, and it must have been a very slow blink, because Shizuo was now beside him. The world spun in a rather disorienting fashion as the blonde carefully eased him upright, but Izaya uselessly flopped against his chest.

_He's so big. Have I ever noticed before he's so much bigger than me?_

"Izaya? Hey, come on. Look at me."

"I am," Izaya slurred.

At least, he thought he did. Maybe not. It was really hard to tell, and it was getting harder to breathe. Maybe he should just stop trying. Even the thought of giving up felt so wrong he coughed to try harder, and something warm trickled from the corner of his mouth.

_Am I drooling?_

"No, idiot." Low and gentle. "That's blood. Come on, now. Sit up. We can't just take a nap out in the open, flea. Get up."

His tone of voice was so gentle. So weird. A tone Izaya had never heard him use, a tone he'd not thought such a Neanderthal capable of. It was jarring. Distracting. The wrongness of it gave him something on which to focus, something to take his mind off the pain a little, enough that he managed to sit upright on his own.

"Hurts," he groaned before he realized himself. But then, he was in too much pain to care about admitting to vulnerability.

"I know," Shizuo said softly, "but we can't stay here. Come on. Walking will help."

Izaya giggled, because that seemed too stupid to be true, but with Shizuo's help he regained his feet. His legs wobbled, threatening to dump him, but they didn't. Then they were walking, which was weird because Izaya didn't remember starting, and at first it really made him want to die.

Gradually, however, he realized it _was_ helping, but he made sure not to tell Shizuo that. The man was already way too comfortable taking charge. Izaya didn't want his head to get any bigger.

Eventually, the thick haze over his mind lifted and he wished it had not. Shizuo had gotten them into the shadows of ruins, but when he tried to lower Izaya the raven gripped his arm and squeezed.

"Don't," he hissed. "I'm not sure I'll be able to get up again."

"But you're hurt," Shizuo protested. "You coughed up quite a bit of blood."

Izaya shook his head. "No time."

As if the emphasize his point, a well-familiar wet snuffling sounded from not far away. Both heads whipped around toward the origin. _Joy of fucking joys,_ Izaya thought sourly.

Shizuo gingerly ensconced Izaya between a couple chunks of toppled building rubble. "Stay here," he whispered, and he darted out of the shadows toward the sound.

Izaya leaned weakly against the rubble, doing his best to take short and shallow breaths. Breathing hurt more than it had any right to, more than at any point ever in his life. It sent a stabbing pain through his chest, and he was certain one or more of his ribs was now broken.

That realization wasn't as bad as the one that followed.  _I'm completely reliant upon Shizuo. If he abandons me now, I'll die._


	14. Keep Moving

During the last however-many-days since the fucking apocalypse started, Shizuo had really come to hate the infected. They were goddamn annoying and hard to kill, and they were near impossible to avoid. Fighting them was dangerous on so many levels he didn’t know where to begin.

But right now, right this moment when killing a sniffer attracted its damn buddies, Shizuo had never hated anything as much in his entire life. The depth of his hatred was so profound it turned his vision red and made his entire body simultaneously ache and burn with it. His teeth clenched together so hard they squeaked, his fingers curled into fists until the bones crackled.

Only one thing kept him from going after the two sniffers like a mindless beast and beating them bloody with his bare hands. _If I crack my knuckles and break skin, I’ll get infected. If that happens, Izaya will die._

He had no idea when that had started mattering to him, but neither did he waste an iota of time wondering about it. For one thing, it wasn’t relevant to his survival. And for another, dithering while being attacked would be fatal.

Thinking at all was a luxury he couldn’t afford.

His fight with jumpers down in the basement had taught him to be wary of handling objects roughly. Since, he’d torn strips off the bottom of his shirt to wrap around his hands. It provided him with protection as he swung his makeshift weapon in a powerful arc.

The street sign narrowly missed his first target, but the second underestimated Shizuo’s ability to pivot and keep his momentum up. While it went flying, the second sniffer tried to leap onto the blonde’s back.

Years of fighting with Izaya had trained every muscle in his body to react instantly to danger coming from behind. Without so much as a split second of decision-making, he hurled himself to the side in a quick roll and hit the ground running.

He charged straight at the sniffer he’d just sent ass-over-heels, and it had to scramble to avoid the street sign. Shizuo let it, spinning at once to sweep the metal pole toward the second one still gunning for him.

Perhaps not expecting his speed, the blow caught the creature right across the chest. A satisfying crunch of bone sounded as it slammed down onto concrete. Shizuo didn’t have time to press the advantage and attack while it was down; the second sniffer had regained its feet.

“I’m gonna send you both to hell,” Shizuo snarled, whipping around to swing the pole toward the creature’s grotesque face. “Just give up already!”

The damn thing ducked just in time, skirting under the blow and sprinting toward him on all fours. The one behind him had gotten up too, charging from the opposite side. Taking a leaf out of Izaya’s book, Shizuo waited until the last second to duck and roll to the side.

The two sniffers collided in a tangle of limbs and spent two precious seconds trying to sort themselves out.

Shizuo only needed one.

A single blow with all his strength bore them both to the ground, Shizuo wielding the sign pole like a spear. It gored both right through the chest and drove a good eight centimeters into concrete. Effectively pinned, even their superior strength couldn’t help them get free in time.

Shizuo picked up a chunk of building that probably weighed a good hundred kilos and smashed it down on their heads. Discolored fluid that reeked worse than vomit and piss gushed from under the rubble, and Shizuo backed away. When the twitching stopped, he turned and bolted to the spot he’d left Izaya.

Not good. Not good at all. The raven was ghost-white, his breathing short and labored. His lips were actually slightly blue, and Shizuo felt alarm tighten every muscle in his body. _Shit, he’s got broken ribs. Breathing hurts, and now he’s not getting enough oxygen to his brain._

Crimson eyes met amber, and Izaya gave him a small and humorless smile. “It’s all right, Shizu-chan,” he gasped. “You don’t have to feel guilty. Just go.”

“The hell you talking about, flea?” Shizuo demanded, deliberately obtuse. He strode across the distance separating him and reached for a thin arm.

Izaya backed away. “Don’t be coy. I’m dead weight, we both know it. We’ll both die if you take me with you.”

Hearing an overture of self-sacrifice was so jarringly wrong Shizuo had the absurd thought that he’d fallen asleep and was having a weird dream. For a few paralyzing seconds he didn’t know the right thing to say that wouldn’t make Izaya do something drastic.

“I know,” he said at length, “but I still can’t leave you here. If it was just death, I could.” _Maybe._ “But leaving you to become like them . . .” He shook his head and once more reached for the raven. “That, I can’t do.”

Expression inscrutable, this time Izaya didn’t resist. A faint, choked moan tumbled from his lips when Shizuo lifted his arm over the blonde’s head and supported half his weight. It was followed by a mirthless chuckle.

“We may both die, you know,” he managed. “Then this noble sacrifice would be for nothing. There’s no one here to impress.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t give a shit about impressing you,” Shizuo retorted. “If they infected you, you’d probably become worse than a jumper and unite them all and infect the whole goddamn world.”

The words were met with a laugh that ended in a wet cough. Izaya slumped in his hold, and Shizuo tried to absorb it as smoothly as he could when he helped the smaller man straighten again. _This is bad._ He tried to ignore the splatter of red that hit the concrete at their feet.

“East,” the raven mumbled.

“What?”

“We need to head east,” Izaya repeated. “That’s the direction of the blockade.”

“On the edge of the city, then?” Shizuo asked more to keep the other talking.

“Yeah,” the reply came after a too-long pause.

He was blacking out. Shizuo used his hold on Izaya to heft the thin man a little higher, knowing it would hurt. Indeed, the raven yelped. But his crimson eyes opened a little wider, and his head lifted a bit.

“Did they establish the blockade to keep the infected in?” Shizuo asked, “or to keep people from escaping?”

“The former, I hope,” Izaya replied, but he sounded unsure. “I don’t think the military is involved.”

“I hope you’re right,” Shizuo murmured. “Do you have any idea if Shinra or Celty made it out?”

“I think so,” Izaya said, voice now slurred. “Shinrra was supposed to be working at the blockade, helping injured. ‘m sure Celty was with him.”

That offered at least some comfort. He doubted Celty could be infected, and she would certainly keep Shinra safe.

“What about others we know?” he inquired, trying not to sound too desperate or pathetic.

“Dunno,” Izaya said. “S’rry.”

It felt a little like the ground tilted sideways under his feet. _He actually sounded sorry._

“I c’ldn’t contac’ you,” Izaya mumbled. “You ch’nged your number, ‘n I hadn’ foun’ out your new one yet.”

Shizuo stumbled, jarring the raven and again making him cry out softly. “Seriously?” he breathed, staring straight ahead. “You tried to warn me? Why?”

“I’m gonn’ be th’ one who kills you,” came the both expected and unexpected response. A pause while the raven sucked in a few labored gasps of air. “No one d’serves to die like tha’.”

The emotions Shizuo felt on hearing that were a little complex and a lot confounding. He wasn’t sure if it was relief, annoyance, exasperation, all of the above, or something else entirely.

_I wonder if I should spare the time to hot-wire a car,_ he thought inanely. The streets were in pretty bad shape, but maybe he could find enough clear road space to make it to the blockade.

The sound, he thought, would probably draw the attention of every infected in the city.

Then, as suddenly as if his spinal cord had been severed, Izaya collapsed. The abrupt dead weight set Shizuo to one knee, and his heart leaped into his throat as he carefully lowered the raven and checked for a pulse.

Fluttery and weak, but there. Shizuo knew he should check his ribs again, but they weren’t that far from where he’d killed the damn infected, and the smell would soon draw others. After a few seconds of trying to wake the other man, he maneuvered Izaya to drape him around his shoulders. He grasped one arm and one leg and stood.

Though he worried about Izaya’s ribs, this position at least evenly distributed his weight and made him easier to carry. He toyed with the idea of returning to the Izunia facility, but he discarded the notion. Going back wasn’t an option.

Only direction to move was forward.


	15. When the Unexpected Occurs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm aware it's been forever since I wrote in my fanfictions, and there's a long personal story there. Let's leave it at this: I'm sorry for my long absence, and I fully intend to finish this story!
> 
> This chapter is dedicated to PhoenixPlume320.

From beneath smothering layers of darkness, incessant pain drove him closer and closer toward awareness. As the black slowly lifted, a sense of urgency began to replace it until he was frantic to find a way out. Clawing through the dark seemed to require almost more strength than he possessed, and when Izaya finally broke free the pain nearly sent him spiraling right back under.

  
It took time for his eyes to focus, for the disconcerting haze to lift from his mind. When things finally started orienting, he realized he was moving. Being moved. Something was holding him at an awkward angle that his entire body protested, but mostly his chest. The terrible agony in his chest was unbearable. It felt like something monstrously strong was crushing his ribs, lungs, and even heart in a grip powerful enough to break steel.

  
His mouth opened, helpless to stop the cry of pain at the abuse. No sound came out. Instead, something thick and wet and warm bubbled up from his throat. The ferrous taste sent alarm sirens wailing in his mind, and in a sudden panic his body twisted to free itself. The result was instantaneous.

  
Pain. Endless, bone-deep, mind-numbing, heart-stopping pain. His entire insides clenched up in protest, and before he could attempt to stop it he puked. The heaving sensation wracked through his whole body and made the pain worse, which only made him puke again. Sympathetic tears pricked his eyes as he shook like a leaf through each spasm.

  
The world spun, the pain spiked, and then mercifully it all stopped. An aching cold settled on him, and his body shuddered now from more than pain. As his thoughts finally caught up with him and he remembered what had happened, he looked up through watery eyes at a familiar face.

  
Shizuo crouched right at his side, and Izaya thought he looked a little gray. The raven blinked several times, wondering why the blonde looked so odd. It occurred to him while the other man’s eyes raked over his form as though looking for something.

 

“Your shirt,” Izaya croaked, throat murderously dry. “Why’s it so rred?” The slight slur in the words bothered him, and he couldn’t say why.

  
Shizuo gave him a strange look, one Izaya couldn’t identify. “You just spat up blood all over me,” he replied in a rather flat tone.

  
_Fear_ , Izaya realized, wishing he didn’t feel so dizzy. _Shizuo looks afraid_. He really wished he felt better so he could appreciate this moment better. He’d seen Shizuo face down all number of terrible circumstances, most of them catalyzed by Izaya himself. _The first time I see it, it’s caused not by my actions but because he’s witnessing me dying right before his eyes?_

  
Huh. He would’ve expected to see a little more glee. Or at least satisfaction. “I did warn you,” he said without thinking. It came out more like a groan.

  
“Warn me about what?” Shizuo demanded, voice hard.

  
His face swum as if he was moving too fast. Then Izaya realized it was his own vision blurring in and out. “That I'm dead,” the raven replied. Then gave a weak grin and finished, “Weight.”

  
“Shut up,” Shizuo said, pulling the strap of the bag he was still carrying over his head. He rummaged around in it and pulled out a bottle of water. “Here, drink. And you should eat something, too. We’re still pretty far from the blockade.”

  
Izaya snorted. “So optimistic. I don’t have the breath to mock you.”

  
Shizuo’s eyes met his, the honey-hazel surfaces showing just a hint of amusement. “You’re still talking. I call that having enough breath. Now shut up and drink some water.”

  
The larger man had leaned the raven against a wall in a narrow alley between two crumbling buildings. Izaya reached up to take the bottle; he was pretty thirsty. He managed to lift his arm a handful of centimeters before white-hot pain shocked all the air from his lungs. It was so intense he wasn’t even sure what happened next, but when he opened his eyes he was now leaning against Shizuo, his back to the blonde's broad chest.

  
“Guess that won’t work,” the blonde murmured, and his tone of voice was weird. “Think you can drink if I hold it for you?”

  
_Ugh, he’s talking with such a sweet, gentle voice. Like someone would talk to a wounded puppy_. He wanted to poke at the blonde. Call him gross. Disgusting. Accuse him of being stupid, of going soft. When he opened his mouth, all that came out was a whimper. He felt a streak of something wet trickle from his lips down his chin, and the taste of iron followed.

  
Just fucking great.

  
The plastic bottle touched his mouth. Izaya drank without protest, and Shizuo used a shallow angle so he didn’t choke. The lukewarm liquid hit his belly and made it curl anxiously, reminding him how very little he’d eaten these past few days. Shizuo was already working on unwrapping one of the bars in the canvas bag.

  
“Th-there’s a medical supply store,” Izaya said, taking short and shallow breaths in an effort to control the pain, “n-not that far from here. But it’s not re-really on the way.”

  
Shizuo didn’t hesitate. “We’ll go. I might be able to find a compression bandage for your ribs.”

  
“And morphine,” Izaya said with a weak laugh.

  
The blonde put the unwrapped bar to Izaya’s lips. It was mortifying to be fed this way, but Izaya obediently bit into the soft morsel. He may not understand why Shizuo was working so hard right now to save him—and he may enjoy mocking him about it—but ultimately, Izaya didn’t actually want to die.

  
Seemed Shizuo didn’t want him to die, either. Not for the first time, Izaya marveled over how utterly confounding Heiwajima Shizuo was. _It doesn’t matter where we are, what the circumstance, or what the environment. You never do what I expect. Shizu-chan. I really, really hate that about you_.

  
Neither had he ever been more grateful for it.

  
“What’re you smirking about?” Shizuo inquired.

  
Izaya swallowed the last bite of energy bar. “Nothing. Just . . . it’s awfully cruel of you to work so hard to save me when you plan to kill me later.”

  
No rebuttal followed that statement. Surprised, Izaya tried to lift his head to look up at Shizuo and visually gauge the other’s reaction. Shizuo buried his nose in Izaya’s hair, preventing the raven from moving. He felt the warmth of the blonde’s breath on his scalp, and it tickled. For what felt like a long time, neither moved.

  
Then, “Think you can hold on if I carry you on my back?”

  
Izaya closed his eyes, trying to decide if he enjoyed the contact or not. “Yeah.” He resisted the urge to ask if Shizuo did still intend to kill him later. He was starting to fear the answer.

  
After a little more water and Shizuo eating his own bar, the blonde shifted them around so he could position Izaya on his back. This transaction nearly sent Izaya right back into unconsciousness. He clung to cognizance through sheer force of will and stubbornness. Since he couldn’t lift his arms at all, he kept them bent at the elbow and just held onto the back of Shizuo’s shirt. He tried not to be fascinated by the redness, since it was from his own blood and all.

  
Still, it entertained him to wonder if he’d manage to survive this. It’d always been a bit of a long shot, he’d known that from the beginning.

  
** **o0o** **

  
Though he knew Izaya was far from well, it comforted Shizuo to a small degree that the smaller man was more alert now. Carrying him, unconscious and barely breathing, unsettled Shizuo far more than he could ever admit. And even though Izaya kept making tiny sounds of distress, it just meant he was still awake.

  
Each breath the raven took, fast and kind of fluttery, washed over the crook of Shizuo’s neck. The blonde tried not to think what it meant that he was breathing so shallow, concentrating only on his immediate goal.

  
“Tu-turn left on the next street,” Izaya gasped in his ear. “The store is about six more blocks down a-after that.”

  
“Right,” Shizuo said. “How do you know about it, exactly?” He didn’t really care, but keeping Izaya talking meant he was awake. _Besides_ , he thought a touch ruefully, _it’s kind of a pointless question. Izaya probably knows everything about Tokyo. That’s the kind of nasty bastard he is._

  
“I know where everything in this city is,” Izaya replied, voice a little fainter than even moments before.

  
“Yeah?” Shizuo encouraged, scanning the streets for any signs of infected as he kept to the shadows. “Picked it up in your habit of spying on people?”

  
A breath of a snort. “I don’t spy, Shizuo.”

  
“What do you call it, then?” Shizuo asked, genuinely curious.

  
“Job security,” Izaya murmured.

  
Shizuo rolled his eyes. “How’d you ever get into this rotten line of work, anyway?”

  
Izaya gave a breathless chuckle. “Probably the same way you got into yours,” he replied. “I picked an occupation I'm good at. And I am, Shizu-chan. I’m really good at it.”

  
“You sound like you’re bragging,” Shizuo grumbled. “What’re you so proud about? Snooping into people’s private business is a shitty occupation.”

  
This time, Izaya’s laugh was cut short by a wet cough and a hiss of pain. “I’m an informant. Believe it or not, I’ve prevented a lot of really bad things from happening.”

  
“Pfft, like what?” Shizuo scoffed.

  
“Hnn, I wonder,” Izaya hummed.

  
Shizuo wanted to keep him talking, but the lack of infected put him on edge. He didn’t even see any shamblers, something which hadn’t occurred since the first day of this nightmare. Though he wanted to rush to their destination, he forced himself to move slowly and carefully.

  
Nothing interrupted his progress, and no sounds disturbed the silent air. Minutes ticked by in palpable tension, and Izaya finally stirred.

  
“There,” the raven whispered. “It’s between the music store and bookstore. At the end of the block.”

  
Shizuo nodded, and within a few minutes he’d reached the ruined storefront. From here he could tell the roof had partially collapsed, but the walls were mostly intact. Shizuo stepped over the broken glass fragments of the door and into the dark store. Unsurprisingly, the inside was a total mess, its contents scattered and trashed everywhere.

  
“All right,” Shizuo said, “let’s get you down so I can get some essentials.”

  
“Essentials,” Izaya snickered. “You sound so responsible, Shizu-chan.”

  
“Shut up,” Shizuo said good-naturedly, casting about for a chair.

  
After a second, he gingerly lowered Izaya to the ground leaned against the wall. Most likely, Izaya wouldn’t be able to keep upright, and even one more impact on his damaged ribs might cause injury well beyond Shizuo’s limited ability to help. And despite his carefulness, Izaya still let out a thin moan that twisted something deep in Shizuo’s gut.

  
“Keep watch,” he said after giving the place a thorough once-over.

  
The windows were broken, of course, making this store a rather indefensible nightmare. The infected weren’t exactly stealthy, but Shizuo collected glass shards and scattered them on the floor near every entrance or opening. Izaya gave a soft snort.

  
“Planning ahead. I suppose miracles do happen.”

  
Shizuo ignored that, picking through the rubble to find what he needed. He kept Izaya in his peripheral. It didn’t take long before he found a quality compression bandage and some breakable ice-packs. He came back to Izaya’s side and knelt.

  
“You want painkillers before I bandage your ribs or after?”

  
Izaya’s lips quirked. “Much as I would like to be knocked out for a week, it’s better if I'm awake. Painkillers will make me too drowsy.”

  
Shizuo only barely managed not to grimace. _His lips are definitely turning blue_. Not for the first time, he wished he had more advanced medical knowledge. _Isn’t it possible for broken ribs to cause a lung to collapse?_ And if that happened, how would he even know?

  
And there was another issue. Izaya’s shirt was in the way, but how would he get it off without hurting the raven further? Damn, it would be really helpful if he was wearing a button-down and not a tee-shirt. Not exactly something a medical supply store was likely to carry. Gently sliding an arm around the raven’s shoulders, he eased him forward and gripped the bottom hem of Izaya’s shirt. It took a little maneuvering, but he pulled it up in the back.

  
“Tilt your head down,” he ordered.

  
Izaya obeyed, and Shizuo pulled the shirt off without moving the smaller man hardly at all. Then, hoping it would help keep Izaya’s mind off the pain,

“Do you know the symptoms of a punctured lung?”

A weak chuckle. “I don’t have a punctured lung.”

  
“How would you know?” Shizuo demanded, unraveling the bandage.

  
“Because I _do_ know the symptoms,” Izaya gasped.

  
After that, he didn’t talk anymore. Shizuo didn’t try to encourage it, because the raven’s attention after that had to stay focused on breathing. The blonde worked as quickly as he could, trying to find the perfect balance between tight enough to reduce or prevent swelling and not so tight it cut off blood flow. When he finished, Izaya looked dangerously close to blacking out again. He broke the ice packs to activate the cold.

  
“Here, can you hold them?” he asked, and when Izaya obeyed, Shizuo realized something.

  
More accurately, something he’d been half-noticing for a while fully formed into thought. _I sure am talking to him weirdly. My tone of voice is so . . . gentle. Like how I talk to . . ._ Kasuka. Or Celty. Or Izaya’s twin sisters. Or anyone he actually cared about. It was disturbing, but not because he was using that tone.

No, what disturbed him was that he wasn’t horrified by this realization.

  
“Y-you might be able to find some hydrocodone,” Izaya panted. He let out that thin, breathless laugh again. “And maybe a wheelchair.”

  
“Don’t keep the ice packs on too long,” Shizuo ordered, ignoring the comment.

  
He really didn’t want to let Izaya out of his sight, but he also didn’t want to move him again. After several paralyzing seconds of indecision, he shoved some shelves and counters out of the way. It gave him a clear line of sight to Izaya while he rummaged through the pharmaceuticals. He had no idea what most of the things on the labels even were.

  
But there were some he recognized, including a handful of painkillers. He sorted through the ones he knew until he found hydrocodone. Hopefully it would be potent enough that it worked but not so potent it knocked Izaya out. He grabbed a small bottle and trotted to kneel at Izaya’s side. Uncapping the bottle, he grabbed a white pill and carefully broke it in half.

  
“Let’s try this to start,” he said, holding it up. “Open your mouth.”

  
The raven obeyed without the half-expected smart-assery, and Shizuo settled the half capsule on his tongue. He held the water bottle for Izaya, giving him just enough to swallow the drug. Satisfied for now, Shizuo rose to his feet and peered out over the ruins the city block had become. The remains of the buildings would make it very difficult to spot incoming danger, but he wanted to give the painkiller a few minutes to start working.

  
“Shizu-chan,” Izaya said, nodding toward the back of the store, “there are oxygen tanks back there. If you could find a mask too, it would help with the dizziness.”

  
If Izaya could walk out of here, even if he needed support, so much the better. The tank was easy to find, though he had to sort through quite a few to find an undamaged one. Masks were a little harder, and he had to move around a half-collapsed wall. His heart actually started to race when Izaya was no longer in his line of sight. Nothing happened in the twenty seconds of time it took to find what he needed, but that didn’t stop him running back to where he’d left the raven.

  
With medical tubing, Shizuo connected the mask to the tank and turned it on. A gratifying hiss told him it was working, and he settled the mas over Izaya’s nose and mouth. The elastic strap kept it in place, and he rocked back on his heels.

  
“That okay?” he asked.

  
Izaya nodded. The introduction of oxygen didn’t help the shallow breathing, but as seconds ticked into minutes, the blue faded from the raven’s lips. It also seemed like a little color returned to his cheeks, and he offered no sarcastic comments about Shizuo’s intense staring. These changes made the blonde feel a bit better, and he once more stood to scan the streets. While he hadn’t heard any signs of infected, this was hardly a safe-enough place to lower his guard.

  
He almost swallowed his tongue, and he instantly dropped down out of sight. Izaya’s crimson eyes met his, slightly widening. Shizuo held up four fingers to indicate the number of figures he’d seen, mentally categorizing the things he’d noticed.

  
Four of them. Moving in this direction. No obvious mutations, so not sniffers. Walking upright and with purpose, so not shamblers. Could be jumpers, though they usually skittered more than walked. All male. Could they actually be survivors?

  
It seemed too good to be true. Despite his misgivings, Shizuo still felt a pulse of hope. It would make sense for humans to come searching for medical supplies. This was a logical place for humans to come. His silence evidently agitated Izaya; with a grimace, the raven reached up and pulled down the mask.

  
“What?” he breathed, just loudly enough to be heard.

  
“Survivors, I think,” Shizuo replied with the same volume. He leaned an eye around the damaged wall just as the four figures emerged into waning daylight.

  
No rotted lips, no signs at all of viral decay. Just normal human faces. Tired and dirty, but normal. His first impulse was to run out and greet them. His second—and far stronger—was to gather Izaya up and hide him until he knew more.

  
Unfortunately, there was no way he could do that without being spotted. The figures were moving too quickly. After a moment of indecision, Shizuo reached out and squeezed Izaya’s shoulder. “Stay out of sight while I talk to them,” he whispered. Only when the raven nodded his acquiescence did Shizuo stand up and stride out of the shadows.

  
If they were friendly, he would gain more allies. In this uncertain world, that meant more eyes to watch his back and more hands to share the work. If they turned out to be foes, Shizuo could easily dispatch them.

  
It only distantly occurred to him how easy it was to consider harming humans. While it wasn’t his intention, certainly, he would do whatever it took to protect Izaya.

  
No matter who got in his way.


End file.
